


Pipe Dreams

by InkInterrupted



Category: James Delaney - Fandom, Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dream Sex, F/M, Masturbation, fluffy feels, vision sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkInterrupted/pseuds/InkInterrupted
Summary: A little one shot concerning what James Delaney dreams of while smoking his pipe in Ponta Delgada.    An extra chapter linked to my larger fan fic Still Waters.    This little piece is inspired by the dreamy, mystic aspects of the show.   Basically,  he’s not missing a certain redhead at all.  ;)Other One Shot requests for James, Lorna or other cast will also be posted here.





	1. Chapter 1

A rich, oakey smell permeated the room, mingling with the scent of the fresh, scarlet blooms that adorned the small table. Silver wisps curled their way through the night air. Dancing around the soles of his feet where they rested upon the open window sill, until finally caught by a gentle wind, they pirouetted in lazy circles out of view. The night wind breathed it’s coolness upon his half naked body; gleaming like a bronzed god beneath the setting sun. Through this smokey haze, James could see the masts of his ship where it was moored in the harbour. From his seated position, no activity was discernible upon the deck. But maybe, if he squinted hard enough, he might be able to catch a glimpse.

Four days, and 3 nights gone.

As he faced this fourth night, alone in the cramped quarters of a cheaply rented room, he finally allowed his mind to drift at will towards that which had been pushed back, while he concentrated on more important matters.

Except, they were not. He knew that now. So easily demonstrated by how often his thoughts required redirection. For years faces of his past, of the departed, and all too often the tormented, had haunted him. Leaning back James drew deeply on his pipe. Watched the billowing clouds as they hung in the air; then shifted much like ghosts in the breeze. Their opaque forms wobbling in the night breeze - the tendrils transforming into something else. Now it was her face that swam before his vision. Her voice the one is his head. Normally calm and warm, it spoke now in lustful tones. Painted ghosts and scenes of torture replaced by water drops on pale, wet skin and curls set aflame. The muted grey flickering into abstract colours that twisted about him. Coiling and molding to his form as he leaned back in the chair, gaze focused on the ancient cracked and peeling plaster. 

He felt its warmth caressing his bare legs, as though it still carried the heat of the flame. The burst of embers with each deep inhale casting ribbons of these sensuous illusions to drape its fired mouth over skin cooled by the night air. It’s silky caress and sweet taste on his lips bringing a rush that permeated every cell of his body. Welcoming the sensations, James stretched his body long, allowing it access to every part of him. Those cravings no longer willing to be ignored, they stirred and roared a fire into his gut while his jaw hung slack and his free hand gripped the chair tightly. 

Once more the vision shifts. Hazy cloud taking form. Wispy thread-like vines blooming red, twisting and tickling where they graze his skin as it glides up his body. James inhaled a deep drag, exhaling more smoke into the air to give it shape; felt it’s soft weight press upon him. Molding to every inch of him. Vapourous fingers that trace their sin upon his fever’d flesh. Another deep inhale, but the exhale lingers upon his lips, a teasing touch; but with a groan he chases the dream. The taste of a crooked smile softening his own hard lines. Swallowing desire until the aching need rises, this yearning spreading along his limbs. His eyes slam shut, but still he reaches. As though he could pull these dream-like flares within his grasp, hold them close before they dissolved into ash. 

This heat was coming, and with it a pleasure shining bright and strangely hopeful. The smoke ignited to thirsty flames and he surrendered to her sacred spells. Her creamy flesh now glowing, it’s light shining through the dark vapours of his mind. Merging with his own and cavorting in the shadows. Rough fingers traced her lines, a gentle plea to open to him. The soft warmth that envelopes his hardness and his breath gasps billows of smoke that glitter forgotten in the corners. A velvet stroking that leaves his hunger naked, impatient; body trembling under it’s enchanted sway. 

This pleasure has come and he stroked the sin, while the red hued illusion flickered and fanned upon him. Seeking him, it plundered all his peaceful barriers. Fiery kisses breaking his will, until rampant desire left him torn in threads. The embers of her love burning until he felt the pulse of lust tightened within that silken lip caress. Heard the crescendo shudder as it shook, and thrust and burst from within while she licked the flames of his passion. Her name a groaning release tore from his mouth. With the dying light upon his face, he came singing, before the vision fled. 

~

_Ya didn’t think I’d actually put them together yet, did ya?_

Slow. Fire. Burn. ;)


	2. Too-Ra-Loo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:   
> hii i was wondering if you could a little something about james and lorna have a baby together maybe in the future? just to see the dynamics of it if not that totally fine but i'd like to see how that would work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know I am 100 years early on the Irish lullaby, but I like it too much.

James stepped onto the loading dock and took a moment to adjust his gait once again for dry, stable land. Weeks sailing had a tendency to leave one with a rolling gait, and thus it was how his first few steps rather stuttered down the long gangplank. His eyes lifted skyward, taking in the blue expanse and the lush green that surrounded him. Breathing deep the fresh air that still retained a slight tang of salt down here at the docks. The scent would only be subtle once he reached the village. The aromas drifting on the breeze now calling him forth; urging his steps quicker. After bidding his First Mate Atticus farewell until the morrow, his eyes flickered to the rising column of smoke that lazily twisted through the tree line into the summer sky. He smiled softly knowing it was likely the boy who kept the home fire burning. He breathed deep once more and took a step, the smile broadening across his tanned and whiskered face.

He would never get tired of this feeling.

Coming home.

~

Lorna washed the daily dishes, careful to keep one eye on the just shy of eleven months old and now crawling infant that was currently pouting upon the floor. Her lips pursed in dissatisfaction, eyes scrunched and piercing, and her little face turning a shade of temper! While the pots and pans had amused her hands for a few minutes, the constant banging did not amuse her normally patient mother. With a slight smile she watched her baby girl hold her gaze, the determination in those depths already a bigger force than her own wee body. 

“Oh such a fierce glare my sweet. So like your daddy, aren’t you wee papoose?”

At the mention of the word daddy, her tiny head began swiveling around; eyes wide and searching. Eyebrows raised high when she could not find the face her small memory recalled, or hear his deep voice anywhere in the house. The plump bottom lip pulled between gums showing the barest peek of baby teeth emerging as she began to crawl from the kitchen into the wider space beyond. Knowing she had a few seconds, Lorna washed and set the last few remaining dishes on the rack and then drying her hands, followed after her daughter. She was sitting in the middle of the open space that served as both an eating and lounging area, the lips turned down into a frowning pout once more as she gazed around. A quiver began on the bottom lip the longer she could not find the “daddy” her mommy had mentioned. Sad brown eyes lifted up and her mouth formed a small “o” as though she was trying to ask where he was. 

Smiling down on the beautiful girl with big brown eyes and an auburn thatch of hair looking just as hacked as her father’s, she wondered just how much love one heart could contain. It seemed hers was in a constant state of over-flow. This precious gift given to her, and all because she took a chance with a Devil. She scooped her daughter up, bringing a squeal of delight, daddy all but forgotten while in mama’s safe arms. Nose to nose they danced about the small room, baby coo’s echoing into the high wood beamed ceiling. 

“Ah, but we know daddy is just a big softie, don’t we my shining Spukani?” 

The baby smiled and giggled as she was spun round, her eyes growing huge with wonder when she began singing an Irish tune. She went still in Lorna’s arms, enraptured by the sound of her voice. Her favourite sound, next to daddy’s voice and the purring of the cat.

_Over in Killarney,_  
Many years ago,  
Me mither sang a song to me  
In tones so sweet and low.  
Just a simple little ditty,  
In her good ould Irish way,  
And I’d give the world if she could sing  
That song to me this day. 

_Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,_  
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
Hush, now don’t you cry! 

Her eyes staring into her mother’s had begun a slow, unfocused blinking; her little body tired from a day of play. The notes and sweet lilt of the first voice she had ever heard washing over and bringing forth a calm. James had heard the singing as he came up the front steps of the small wood cabin and he ensured his tread remained silent - as well as the opening of the front door. Leaning against the door frame taken in the sight of his wife and daughter caught in a moment so sweet he was taken aback by how starved his eyes had been just to look upon them. Lorna’s hair was hanging in long, loose waves down her back, the setting sun through the window setting it aflame. He could smell the lavender scent of her shampoo clear across the room. He smiled knowing she had anticipated his return. His passion immediately stirred by her trim, graceful form as she danced with their tiny daughter in her arms. Feeling the tightening in his breeches, still surprised despite frequent homecomings at how anxious he was to touch her again. He was torn between rushing across the room and scooping her into his arms, heading straight down the hall where he could pour out his love upon her pale flesh for hours on end. And his other love, staring with complete reverence into her mama’s eyes as the notes sung low. These two females encompassing everything he held dear in this entire world. How they had become his Life. With a slight frown, his dark eyes considered the wee form now throwing her head back and giggling in her baby voice. His heart clenched, almost painfully. He would kill for her. He’d never expected that hold on his heart, but it came the instant her tiny hand grasped his finger. He swore his daughter would never know the absence of love as he had, and hell would be unleashed on whoever dared hurt his precious girl. Her small head was now drifting down upon mama’s breast, as the notes of the lullaby soothed her towards sleep. If he wanted a few moments, he’d better act now. 

Lorna turned towards him at that moment and their gazes met. Held – just like a thousand times before and still burning just as bright. The heat snapping like a live charge along the space between them. The flicker passing strong as ever.

_I will be with you._

James crossed the room slowly, his eyes trying to drink them both in at the same time; but flickering up to hold Lorna’s with an intensity that made her skin burn. But it was to their daughter he came first, leaning over and kissing her thatch covered head. She sighed softly, squirmed a little in Lorna’s arms. Until he whispered a few words in the Twi language near her ear. Her wee head lifted and tilted back to look at James, the smile spreading across her entire face and her eyes lighting up. She reached tiny hands up to grasp his beard, pulling him closer and James nuzzled his jaw along her soft cheek while she squealed her delight. Easily he lifted her into his arms and she grasped hold like the earth would shake her loose if she didn’t hold tight enough. Her head dropped to his chest, nestled in close and he kissed the top of her head.

“Muaah, your mama likes to snuggle there too.”

Lorna smiled and stepped into his other arm, their mouths softly meeting, but the flames leaping just below the surface. They pulled back to find their daughter’s eyes wide upon them and chuckled.

“Ah, mama will get her chance later, hhmm?” He winked at Lorna, pleased he could still bring forth a blush to her cheeks.

“Welcome home James.” She kissed him again on his cheek and he lifted his eyebrows in exaggeration while the baby giggled. “Did you eat anything James?”

He grunted a reply. Used to his monosyllabic responses, she shrugged and walked towards the hallway that lead to their indoor washing room. “It’s time for Jaci’s bath and then a feed.” she glanced over her shoulder, eyes bright at James. “And then hopefully to sleep for the night.” 

“Did Robert bring you water?”

“No, he told me earlier it was really busy down at the post. He didn’t expect to be home until later.”

“But he has…”

Lorna stepped close and lay a hand on his arm. “He’s been great James. So helpful with the post, the house and Jaci..” James mouth opened to interrupt and reading his mind Lorna quickly added, “and keeping up with his studies. I’m so proud of him James. He’s becoming such a young man and his heart is so kind. Jaci adores him and Robert would do anything for her. For us.”

Jaci’s wee head had lifted at Robert’s name, and once again she swiveled to search the room, before nuzzling back against her daddy’s shoulder. James nodded, still unaccustomed to this feeling of pride that rose within where Robert was concerned. He wondered if he’d ever fully reach a comfortable relationship with the boy. Everything had been so different when Jaci was born. The doting feelings of fatherhood just rushing upon him and easily accepted. He readjusted her in his arms and turned towards the door.

“I’ll fetch some water.”

It was a delighted baby girl that had both her and mommy and daddy home to lavish attention upon her and thus not at all interested in settling down for the evening. Realizing she had been doing laundry that day for her bassinet bedding and some clothing, Lorna excused herself to retrieve the dried clothing from the line, while James handled the bath duties. When she returned, baby giggles and James deep chuckle drifted down the hall and she contentedly listened to him teasing his daughter and happy splashes while she folded and put away clothing and tidied the nursery. Suddenly realizing there is quite a bit of splashing and then a rare burst of James laughter getting the better of her curiosity. She tread silently down the hall and peeked around the corner of washing room door and her eyes immediately grew wide. The floor was covered with way more water than she was sure James had brought in. The bottle of soap she had made herself with help from the Nootka tribal women tipped over and generously spilling upon the table. Baby toys lay scattered about the room in tiny puddles. 

“I was gone barely ten minutes you two.”

James turned quickly around, granting her a view of their daughter who was sitting in a tub of more bubbles than water and sporting a shampoo Mohawk atop her tiny head. 

“Oh my … what… how. James honestly!”

Seeing Jaci’s sweet face full of smiles as she threw handfuls of the soapy water at her daddy, who she now noticed was as wet as his daughter, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the picture they presented. 

“Well, you never have behaved proper in the tub, have you James?” 

“Mauha.”

Their gazes held remembering the time he had joined her bath while sailing on the ship. Followed by another completely more amorous shared bath in an Inn. She smiled and turned to leave.

“You better clean that mess up Mr. Delaney.”

James turned and made a silly face at his daughter, who had grown a serious look at her mother’s tone. 

“Uh oh, think I’m in trouble with mommy.”

“Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh.” 

James laughed out loud and nuzzled his nose against her tiny button nose while her tiny wet hands squeezed his face, leaving hand prints of soap behind. He quickly rinsed the baby clean and they wrapped her in a big, soft towel and headed to the nursery. Lorna met him halfway down the hall and reached for her now sweet smelling baby.

“Robert’s just arrived. He’s in the kitchen. Why don’t you go ahead since she will want to feed before bed.”

James nodded and leaned in for a kiss as he passed by. 

Lorna diapered and dressed the infant in soft pajamas, her eyes already struggling to remain open. The two settled in the comfy chair James had gifted her with and in no time babe was content on mama’s breast. Exhausted her head leaned back and eyes closed as her baby nursed, the sounds of the men’s voices drifting from the kitchen. With a smile she noted James praise of the boy for all his hard work. One day she knew it would be easier between the two of them; though the awkwardness of never truly knowing their relationship was sure to linger. Her little family was home; and all healthy and happy and she could not have wished for anything more. She switched the infant to the other breast and her eyes drifted closed. 

Thus was the scene James returned to discover. His wife and daughter snuggled close to one another and sleeping peacefully. Never had he thought such a vision would be his to behold. Noticing the infant was no longer feeding, he quietly entered the room and gently picked her up and over his shoulder, rubbing her back in small circles. He paced the room slowly, rubbing and patting gently and eyes often drifting to Lorna still sleeping, until a tiny burp of gas was emitted. Smiling softly he waited a few more moments and then kissing her soft head, lay her down in the bed. Leaving Lorna resting, he took time in the washing room to clean up the mess and also himself from the salt and sweat of weeks at sea. Returning to the nursery, he gently woke his wife and grasping her hand within his own, led her towards their own room, and quietly shut the door.

They came easily into one another’s arms, as though no time has passed. The nature of their relationship having always been one of parting and coming together again. Each time a little stronger and another step deeper in love with one another. The fire between them barely needing stoking before it was roaring to life once again. His mouth covered hers and he pushed her back towards their huge bed, not wanting another delay to keep him from kissing every inch of her pale flesh, or the feel of being buried deep inside her. Their reunion this night was slow and sweet and unhurried. Happy to have him safely home, Lorna snuggled close against his warmth, falling asleep to his hands trailing through the length of her hair. Once they reached for one another in the night. The same languid pace set, with James holding her head in the crook of one arm so he could whisper his love and stroke her hair, while his passion stroked long and slow thrusts deep inside. He wanted to be this close to her always. No air between their pressed bodies and their breath mingling. Hearing his name sighed as desire exploded upon her face. Deeply sated and exhausted they fell asleep still entwined.

When Lorna’s eyes opened, the bright sunlight was already filtering into the bedroom. It took a moment for her to remember that James was home again, though the space beside her was empty. Hearing male voices coming from the kitchen, she donned a wrap and padded barefoot down the hall to investigate. Surely Jaci would be awake by now and hungry for her morning cereal. Arriving at the kitchen entrance, she gasped out loud and James, Robert and even little Jaci all turned their heads to stare. 

The room was a complete disaster. There was spilled milk on the counter and she noticed the baby rice cereal she had made spilled on the floor. Eyes darting over to the infant in her seat and quickly noticed that Jaci herself was completely covered from her chin to hair in a sticky paste she could only assume was their attempt at making the child’s breakfast. James deep, even tone broke the silence.

“Morning love, thought you might like a sleep in.”

“What on earth happened in here?”

James eyes darted back and forth from her own, to Jaci’s and finally to Robert who was looking at her with a pleading expression.

James finally nodded in the boy’s direction. “He was helping me.”

Robert gasped and spoke in his own defense. “He wasn’t listening. I said she only needed a little bit.”

Lorna shook her head at both of them. “Right. Good luck gentlemen.” And turned and headed back to her bedroom.

James and Robert looked at one another, and then both at little Jaci with cereal dripping from her wee ears. Her eyes still watching the door where mommy had just left, before turning back to meet her daddy’s wide gaze with her own. She threw a handful of cereal that landed on his stubbled cheek.

“Uh oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spukani is Sun in Salish.
> 
> Jaci is Native American Tupi “moon” – because James baby girl was born during a full moon. Of course.


	3. Sitting Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Can I get a one shot of James being gaslighted by Lorna after failing to again see the clear signals she’s waving him in to home base?
> 
> So I am assuming this is in reference to the following line that may or may not have went over James head:
> 
> “I shall not hinder your advances.” 
> 
> Since I don’t think Lorna would manipulate James in a cruel or harmful manner, this handled as a flirting exchange between the two: something James requires a wee bit of practice regarding. This one was a tough one. Flirting is hard enough in reality, and writing even more so.

“Ruin a duck?”

Brace wiped the shocked expression from his face as he painfully rose from the chair. Hands still clutching the buttons from Horace’s uniform jacket as he listened for noises in the kitchen. A bemused expression lingered as if suddenly the time of day dawned on him, then just as quickly the righteous indignation that Mrs. Delaney would dare invade his kitchen. James had expected the contrite countenance of a servant derelict in his duties. He doubted the man was even aware of how he had been spared. 

“What does she think she’s on about?” Brace called over his shoulder as he shuffled down the stairs. “Tried to boil and egg herself the other day and damn near exploded the thing in the pot. How one can manage such an act is beyond me James.” 

James slower shuffle and the amused grunted chuckle he couldn’t contain followed behind. _Still she didn’t complain about doing your work old man._ But he held his silence. Enough truths revealed for one day. The scene in the kitchen was one of flying feathers and peeled potato skins littering both table and floor; and even more strange the odd marrying of the two to one another against various surfaces. Another grunt issued from James as he came around the final corner and stepped down into the kitchen; taking in the chaotic scene of the normally tidy space. His glance raked over her form where she stood at the counter, plucking madly. A few red curls had escaped from the head wrap; hanging in wild disarray and adorned with feathers. Her lips compressed in a thin line and she barely glanced from her task as they entered. An angry angel James thought and could no longer deny to himself she was indeed beautiful. He had called her Mrs. Delaney and damn if the name didn’t feel good on his tongue. His mind recalled the flow of the neatly scrawled ink that was formed from his own hand upon the letter locked away in his safe until it was time. _Lorna_

He still had yet to savor the sound as it passed over his lips. This new found freedom of mind … and perhaps also his heart…. now that his association with his sister was finally severed. A weight lifting and he breathed deeper than he had in a long, long time. His gaze settled on her crooked smile as she tossed a few feathers at the boy and a new weight settled. Mind turning to the task he had set before her; torn between ensuring her safety and trusting both her loyalty and ability to do this most important venture for him. He trusted no one else; for no one else had believed in him; even when he didn’t believe in himself. Still a fear settled in his chest that she might be harmed and he was certain that he could not easily dismiss the notion as he once had. 

_The consequence to you is worth the risk to me yes?_

Not anymore.

The cleaver she held suddenly lowered with a vengeance, startling him and the boy. It briefly passed his thoughts that perhaps he should fear for Carlsbad instead. Silently he watched with a mixture of endearment and amusement: wondering what these poor ducks had ever done to her to deserve such a harsh death. She exhaled a puff of air and several feathers escaped their soft, red chains to flutter about the room. Her gaze suddenly noting the servant’s slow steps and sickly appearance, and James watched her demeanor soften. Concerned eyes turning to his own, the question clear though unvoiced. His mind still reeling from the old servants confession and he knew there was no way he could hide the raw emotions from her keen perception. A shrug and a grunt the standard reply, as he walked around to stand behind her. Casting a wink towards Robert where he sat peeling potatoes and still trying to avoid his eyes. _Would he always look so damn fearful?_ The quirk of a smile ghosted over his face and James saw no fear when the boys’ gaze shifted to Lorna. Peering over her shoulder he considered the carnage while blowing a feather that drifted slowly down to the table.

“I don’t hear any quacking… I believe you have vanquished them and won the day.”

She huffed a great puff of air and frowned at him over her shoulder. “You are welcome to give it a try yourself James. I’d be more than happy to defeather myself and have a cup of tea.”

James took a knife from her hand and moved it through the air, eyes narrowing as he caught Robert’s own following the motion of the blade.

“Oh no, that won’t do. Unless you are interested in baboon for dinner – those I can skin in one long clean filet.” 

Robert’s eyes widened at this revelation and he sat forward upon his stool hoping the man would continue. His hopes dashed by the sudden bang of the cleaver upon the table and Lorna’s _honestly James._ They watched with uneasy stomachs as a duck foot scattered across the table. Brace stood silent and horrified. Lorna paused and glanced from the boy to James before covering her mouth to stifle a laugh, and ended up with a mouth covered in feathers. Turning her head back towards James, the force of the escaped laughter blew more feathers; this time depositing a few upon his bearded chin. Robert’s laughter burst from the other side of the table, while James glared in return. Though he couldn’t hide the smirk of a smile within the corners. 

“Hhhhmm.”

Lorna stood contrite with a hand over her heart, unsure whether she should reach out and retrieve the feathers. “James, I… sorry…” a giggle escaped and his eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps it would be best if you turned the knife and these poor ducks over to Brace to finish?”

“Gladly.” 

With a weary sigh Brace stepped to the table, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. Once again she looked to James, but the stoic nature was firmly back in place and she knew no information would be forthcoming. An eyebrow raised towards Robert who still sat as quietly and calmly as ever; though she noted those wide eyes rarely missed anything. Brace gently picked up one sorry looking duck carcass and finally found his voice.

“The first rule for preparing duck…”

James wandered from the kitchen towards the fireplace in the drawing room, standing before its warmth lost in the tumble of thoughts that plagued his brain. Two truths discovered this day; both of them equal parts heartbreak and kindness. If he truly searched his conscious, he would realize that they were truths that he already knew in his heart; the steps to acceptance just taking the long way round. With wry amusement he acknowledged the cure was often as hard as the affliction. At least Brace had seemed sincerely remorseful regarding his actions, whereas his sister could not even manage to squeeze out a real tear regarding his dismissal. In the end, he was fully aware they both found ways to cast blame upon himself. Perhaps he was deserving…

A knock upon the door interrupted the path of his thoughts. A glance into the kitchen revealed Brace deep in a duck preparation lesson with Lorna and the boy. James took a few steps forward and spied Cholmondeley’s face beyond the glass and admitted the chemist into the parlour. For several minutes they spoke in hushed tones before the fire. Over his glass of brandy, Cholmondeley spied the actress in the kitchen – a fetching sight even with apron and messy hair dropping feathers. Ignoring James comments, he moved closer in that direction and cleared his throat loudly. Lorna turned around at the sound, and seeing their guest, frowned slightly before recovering her manners. Bestowing him with a wary smile.

“Mr Cholmondeley, I wasn’t aware we were expecting you.”

The chemist removed his hat with understated flair. “Miss Bow, a pleasure to see you again.”

Lorna glanced over his smaller stature to find James standing glaring fiercely at the mans’ back. His eyes briefly lifted to her own, but revealed nothing and no verbal response to her raised brow. She faced the chemist once more.

“Will you be staying long then? We are preparing duck for this evening.”

Braving much he reached a hand upward to retrieve a feather from the red strands. “I see the evidence… “ A dark shadow fell over them and his hand was caught in James firm grip. 

“Mr Cholmondeley and I are not finished our business and I’m afraid after it will be necessary for him to leave.” A pointed look at the man. “To attend said important business.”

Her head titled slightly, “Aaah I see. Well certainly I will not prevent any forward strides you wish to make.” James head slanted slightly to the side at her choice of words, as he held her gaze. “Or keep you from pressing matters Mr. Cholmondeley of course.” 

James remained slack jawed with brows narrowed pondering her words, while she stood with an easy smile and the chemist stood still between them, full aware he may have well been invisible. A little softer than a door in the face, and thus he couldn’t resist testing the waters a little further.

Attempting to save face, he half bowed before her, “Alas, it is true that important Company business awaits, and it is with much sadness I must decline your generous invitation Miss Bow.”

“No need to apologize Mr. Cholmondeley. I’d hate to come between you and James…” Her gaze briefly flicked towards James who was carefully studying her. “…and please allow me to thank you most kindly for the interesting reading material.”

James grunted, eyes narrowing further as his curiosity regarding both the book and exactly where her intentions might lie; since she did not dismiss he man outright. Given recent proof of just how misguided his own intentions in matters of the heart had proven, he was uncertain if he could trust the signals. 

The chemist intended to take full advantage of each moment he was granted, though he could sense James eyes boring through his skull and the mans’ impatience like a scent in the room. “I am pleased that you found it to your liking. Perhaps we could discuss its various merits at some future…”

Once again James dark shadow loomed over the man, and he pressed close to pierce him still with his brooding gaze. “I believe Mrs. Delaney is required in the kitchen, and you and I have matters still to discuss. Hmmm?”

Cholmondeley was no fool and caught the use of her married name. A thin veiled attempt to mark his possession of the lady. He had thought perhaps he was beginning to make strides when the sound of her heels clicking upon the kitchen floor told him he was already effectively – and easily – dismissed.

~

After dinner, James entered the parlour to find Lorna pouring a glass of sherry from the sideboard, a book tucked under her arm. The heat from a blazing fire cast its glow about the room as he peered closely at the title she carried. A grunt escaped as recognition dawned. 

Leaning close, his voice came as a growled caress. “He’s not a suitable man.”

Turning slightly, mere inches between their faces, she meet his eyes with chin raised: “Aren’t I in the league of the damned?” Another grunt, but a twisted smile accompanied the slight nod of his head. “Well then James, I think we are past any discussion regarding suitable men. With certain rumours flying about the city regarding me… and you, Mr Cholmondeley might very well be my only option. Otherwise, you might be stuck having me all to yourself.”

The corner of his mouth lifted at the clever play of words. Assuming it was just a play on words. _Surely she could not actually be considering such a man? _While he pondered the signs and felt the anxiety arise regarding his uncertainty of her intentions, she moved to pass him, but James grasped her arm gently above the elbow.__

__“If you wish to pursue it, know that he may make you his… but he will not be yours. He will use you and then…”_ _

__“James, I assure you - I am not his. I am seldom used. And as I said before, I shall not hinder.,.”_ _

__Another grunt and he leaned in closer, his breath a hot fan upon her skin._ _

__“Advances, hhmmm?”_ _

__She swallowed thickly, eyes briefly dipping to his full mouth before raising once more with a soft glow within the warm brown center. He fell into those depths while the air filled with a charged static between them. Her own breath and will held while the silenced loomed large._ _

__“Well I have already crossed one river James. Your turn?”_ _

__“Mauah.”_ _

__He turned away and then just as suddenly turned back, a finger raised just inches from her nose, while he searched his mind for a more suitable retort. His jaw clenched and the flexing while he struggled to decipher her words and find his own. Years of indifference, and cold receptions laced in mocking tones had stripped his confidence in such matters. He did not wish to be wrong again. Not with her. She was of such strong mind. Unwavering. And he so undeserving. He swayed slightly before her, an odd laugh emitted._ _

__“River…. Ship.”_ _

___Brilliant._ _ _

__He stepped back, eyes wide and his face contorted with a mix of hesitation and being on the verge of uttering more. She stood waiting, refusing to drop his gaze and prepared to endure another volley of what might have been monosyllabic flirting, before replying in exasperation._ _

__“Honestly James, do something or get out of my way.”_ _

__James head titled in confusion. They were the only two people in the room and she was not physically blocked in any manner. _What did she expect him to do?_ With a slight smile and roll of her eyes, she brushed past him; his ears catching only the muttered words “sitting duck.” He was at a loss regarding this recent volley of wit, but he also did not want to be denied the pleasure of her company this evening either. Perhaps their very last in this house. His eyes scanned over her form settled in the chair by the fire, already scanning the book pages. He saw the delicate arch of one brow and suddenly knew although her eyes were diverted – her thoughts remained with him. Also, she had not left his presence either. Feeling somewhat emboldened, he poured a drink of his own and shuffled over to take a seat on the couch across from her. As he sipped his libation, he watched the slight murmour of her lips still wet from wine, form the words as she quietly read. He would have thought this kind of domestic scene to fill him with restlessness, but instead he felt a rare contentment. Just being here with her, even bemused and befuddled, a welcome calm to his troubled spirit. His glance flickered from the fire, to where it cast its glow upon her cheek. Suddenly finding her own gaze steadily upon him._ _

__“Do you not read James?”_ _

__“Yes, but I prefer living things… people.”_ _

___Let her figure that one out._ He smiled, pleased with himself._ _

__“Oh, I see. And do you find that you’re understanding of the material is accurate? Fair?”_ _

__He paused before answering. Then only offered the mere shrug of his shoulders as reply. Given their current exchange it was a fair question. Damn she was astute. Almost as much as he…_ _

__He paused as the realization of how alike they were dawned on him. And that he was enjoying this battle of wits immensely. Far more engaging then the same argument over and over._ _

__“James?”_ _

__A brow raised in answer._ _

__“Are you reading right now?”_ _

__He raised his glass for a deep draught, and she saw her answer in the probing stare he fixed upon her. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and then how his lips lingered on the edge of the glass as he drank again. A careful and lengthy perusal of the source material, and she felt the shiver run along her spine under the intense regard. She dropped her gaze and shifted uncomfortably in the chair before searching his gaze once more. James saw that her eyes had softened, the challenge gone and a hesitant curiosity had taken its place, and he knew now the reason he tread carefully. She read so much better than he. An unopened box. A tiger crouched inside its roar ready to frighten… and push away. But not her. She was an open book, the words spilling from her heart and pooling in the misty reflection of her eyes. It was all there just waiting for his fingers to glide over the words. Sound them out on his tongue. Hold them in his own heart if he could manage to open it. He leaned his head back against the couch and stretched his feet out open the stool; watched the firelight dance upon her hair. His smile was easy, open… an invitation she would not miss._ _

__“No. I’m listening.”_ _

__The quick flash of her crooked smile told him everything he needed to know._ _


	4. Making Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello again i’ve been gone a long while lol but i’m back (if you still remember me)i have been in the shadows reading your fics which are amazing and i love then even more, this is kinda out of the blue but i’m in the need of some Lorna x James fluff just them lying in bed enjoying each others company as always your writing is amazing and i’m obsessed -k
> 
> Warnings: fluff abounds, light sexual scenario

The early sun slanted through the newly hung curtains, filtering its way through the minefield of floating dust mites as James lay with arms folded behind his head, listening to her soft, easy breathing upon his chest. Still not quite used to this. All of this. Her. Here. A cabin of their own. Hell a bed they both fit in comfortably and that didn’t pitch and roll in the night. Her body was soft and warm nestled against his side and that old numbness was a forgotten thing. Feeling the morning heat rise beneath the sheets, he nuzzled the growth of his beard against her temple. The soft _hhhmmm_ barely heard in the stillness. Lorna stirred slightly against him, her arm briefly squeezing him tight, before settling upon his lean torso once more. 

He smiled gently into the wisps of hair that curled about her brow, knowing how hard she had worked the past weeks to see them comfortably situated in their new home. Linens to be washed. Linens to be sewed. Clothing unpacked, mended, washed and neatly placed in its proper storage place. Establishing a proper kitchen in between loads of drying laundry that flapped in the gentle breeze. They came with nothing to appoint a home, James mind being on other matters. Thus all had to be either purchased or made by her own hands. James eyes widening as the list she presented grew and grew and grew. He had meant to live simply! Yet when his eyes quickly scanned the items she requested, it was plainly evident it was but the bare essentials required. She asked for nothing frivolous… no china would adorn the shelves of this Delaney homestead. Instead he had watched her closely as she browsed through the carved wooden utensils and painted pottery available at the trading post; a delighted smile etching her face. Any notion he held she would find the village too primitive erased as he watched her fingers traced the intricate artwork upon a cedar bentwood box. Though their cabin had been outfitted with the convenience of an iron wood burning stove, James had returned home with the item that very evening. As luck would have it, Robert also arriving home with fresh caught Pacific salmon. 

With a quiet chuckle he recalled stopping by the house from the trading post to surprise her for tea, and finding his home filled to bursting with various Native women sewing and mending furiously. He had scanned the room quickly, searching for a red head among the dark haired and ignoring the clucking of the women as their eyes traveled the length of him. And he’d thought London society difficult to navigate. He quickly retreated to the kitchen hoping to escape and find her there. The normally tidy small area was nearly buried beneath more women and candle making supplies. His eyes finally found her stirring a pot upon the stove. There was always something simmering on the stove these days; whether tea or a hearty stew. Hospitality a serious past time in the village. Though this smelt suspiciously like beeswax. Red curls wild about her sweat drenched face, her eyes immediately caught his entrance; and the wild look upon his face. James had barely mouthed the word “tea” when she was already crossing to a teapot wrapped in yet another handmade warmer that sat upon a tray, and breaking her way through the gaggle of chattering Native tongue, nodded for him to follow her to the back porch. Setting the tray on a roughly fashioned wooden table that sat between two chairs, she poured him tea as he preferred, and they both settled down to enjoy the warm brew. Eyes passing over the stretch of fertile and lush scenery before them. Their eyes met and both erupted into spontaneous laughter.

“I’m sorry James, but they rather just showed up. I don’t think Nootka women are familiar with the calling card concept.” James chuckled again and nodded his head. “And they’ve been so incredibly helpful James. I couldn’t very well send them away. Not when I am learning so much about making our home…. Well, a home.”

James took her hand, kissing the lean and smelling of beeswax fingers lightly. 

“It already is a home my love.”

But he smiled his encouragement having learned on the long journey here that it cost him nothing to acknowledge all she did. How she soared when he breathed air under her wings and there was nothing he loved more than seeing her fly. 

Now as he breathed in her delicate scent and pulled her closer, his eyes wandered about the comfortable appointed master bedroom she had worked so hard to make a special place for the two of them. The portrait of her he had drawn on the ship was propped upon the vanity dressing table he had bought as a surprise gift the day after they landed. Beautifully and intricately carved with various totems by a local Nookta tribesman. The dried single rose placed in an empty jar and he took mental note that she had no available vases. Or fresh flowers for that matter. His mind also so busy on Delaney Trading Company matters. He knew they’d find the balance once they settled in and he kissed her brow once more. This time lingering until she stirred to waking.

“Hhhmm.”

He grunted beside her, “You’re beginning to sound like me.”

She smiled into his shoulder, lips pressing a kiss, while a finger had already begun to trace a dark bold band. 

“I’m sure there was a time you thought I talked too much.”

Another grunt as James wisely held his tongue.

For about three seconds, when the honest side of his nature took over.

“Only when you wouldn’t listen….” He grabbed her hand in time to halt the forthcoming pinch, “… and danger threatened.”

She snorted beside him. “Right. Certainly not my surprise appearance in a courtroom then?”

The finger followed the black line across his chest as she rose slightly to meet his gaze. He was quiet for a few moments. That probing stare holding her own. She could tell by the working of his jaw he was debating before speaking. How much to reveal. When his voice came deep and thick with emotion.

“I was already taken with you.”

A brow arched and the crooked smile flashed. “Already? Then?” Her smile widened and he decided the glow in her eyes was worth the confession.

“Hhhmmm.”

The single response suggested the matter closed for now, but she didn’t require more. Not with his fingers lightly tracing down the curve of her back; that gaze still holding her in place as it always did. The veil lifted another inch more. 

“Tea? Or coffee this morning?”

He growled a groan and pulled her up against his chest. “Isn’t it Sunday?” She nodded affirmative. “Hmm, store is closed and I don’t want to get up yet.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against his own, before sitting up once more, just escaping the pull of his arms. 

“I shall bring it here. You can tell me how things are at the Post while we break the fast.”

Knowing how she had taken to this new doting role, he didn’t have the heart to deny her. Though her naked form now bathed in the early morning light was causing him to pitch a tent beneath the blankets. The idea of tea in bed did sound quite lazy and wanton. He nodded his assent. 

She gifted him a lovely view of her bare backside before she swept her wrap about her and practically floated out of the room. He shifted uncomfortably now, feeling the strain in his nether regions. Though also struck at the same time with the fact they did not live in his house alone. The boy was likely up soon. Thank goodness she had donned a wrap before heading for the kitchen. The vision of her naked and making tea doing nothing for his bulging erection.

He’d be damned if drink tea was all that was on breakfast menu now.

~

She stood with tray in hand at the side of the bed, smiling down on the bare chested form now snoring lightly within the covers.

“And, he sleeps.”

James raised a finger to wave in the air. “Resting. Because apparently making tea is a lengthy endeavor.”

At no response from her, he peeled one eye open to see her standing with an uncertain look in her eyes and his stomach flipped to think he had unknowingly offended her. Then his eyes dropped to the tray she held, taking in the scones, cream and jam and freshly picked berries and he swore softly under his breath.

“Shit. Sorry love.”

He reached up to take the tray from her outstretched hands and placed it across his lap, then patted her side of the bed. Quietly she settled into place, her eyes averted, until he leaned over and claimed her mouth in a kiss far too passionate for breakfast. It took her a moment to catch her breath, while he settled the tray between them.

“It looks delicious. Really.” He lathered a scone with jam and cream, then raised it to her lips as peace offering. Accepting with a smile she took the offering and sighed deeply at the warm taste; dribbling a drop of jam upon her chin in the process. James chuckled and wiped clean the offending fruit, licking his finger clean with a wink. 

“I am sorry it took so long James. I fear I am still finding my domestic way about the place.”

James smiled gently, holding up his own scone. “Well these are delicious. Vast improvement from the last batch.”

A moment’s pause and they both turned and erupted into laughter. Lorna swatted him lightly on a bare shoulder.

“Oh God James, please tell me it is not still on your desk as a paper weight.”

James cast a serious look. “Oh hell no, I got rid of that.”

She leaned back, a sigh of relief, before he continued.

“Poor mice kept breaking their teeth on the damned thing.” His head turned to catch her glare. “It was a kindness you see.”

Her eyes rolled as she took a dainty sip of tea; refusing to be baited. He smiled wide as he finished the scone in one big bite and smacked a jam covered kiss upon her mouth. Shaking her head as laughter erupted, she pushed him gently back to his own side, her eyes dipping down to the tray, then back to his own. James grew quiet, then lay a hand gently on the soft roundness of her stomach that had appeared lately.

“Hungry love?” She nodded. “All is well though?” He lightly rubbed over the place his child grew within her.

“Yes James, all is well.” 

He nodded and set to task of preparing another scone for his pregnant wife, all the while in his head marveling at all she had accomplished; while still growing an entire life within. He handed her the pastry bread, then placed a more gentle kiss upon her mouth; whispering against the soft lips.

“I’m in awe of you, my love.”

Damn he’d never get enough of the way her eyes softened when she cast the full look of love in her heart upon him. For a moment they simply shared a look. Safe in the knowledge that they had one another and that their child grew safe and already so loved inside her, cementing the bond that ever drew them closer. Then both settled back with the warm brew and fresh food to share, while James caught her up on all the latest news and happenings from the Trading Post.

Suddenly James felt like he’d been talking far too much, his eyes drifting down the legs bared where her night shift had ridden up her calves. Reaching his large hands down he kneaded the muscle lightly, knowing her legs would ache at times as the pregnancy advanced. Even though she had barely gained a stone and was just beginning to show in her clothing. Her head tipped back to lean against the wall and she purred deep; raising James brow – and arousal. 

“The boy is awful quiet this morning. Must have slept in.”

Lorna’s head swiveled towards him, “Robert went fishing early this morning with Atticus, Bill and that boy from the village…remember?” She snapped her fingers. “What’s his name? Darn it. I can’t remember anything these days James… you know, the one that lives near the smoking shack?”

James was still mentally stuck on the fact that the boy was gone, thus leaving them alone in the cabin.

“Right. The smoking shack.” His hand slid further up her thigh, softly kneading. Her gaze still unfocused as she sought to pull the name out of thin air and James smiled inwardly wondering if she was even aware of the parting of her legs to give him more access.

“His sister is Namid, why can I remember that?”

James shrugged a grunt and lowered his mouth to the inside of her knee, jerking her attention towards his amorous bent. His eyes lifted to catch her arched brow. The subtle pull of a smirk in the corners of her mouth. She pushed her knee gently against his stubbled cheek.

“I thought you were tired this morning?”

James pushed her knee flat against the bed, ran his beard along the pale skin of her inner thigh. “I’m tired of talking.”

His lips trailed lightly upward, pausing to place a kiss on the roundness of her lower stomach, eyes searching her own. At her soft nod he continued his attentions towards her breasts, hem of her nightgown following behind; fingers lightly teasing. With a low growl he nuzzled between the valley, beneath the soft cotton, but then eyes widened he paused. Eyes gone dark with smoldering desire that caught her own; flickering with both her own desire and amusement at his reaction to her fuller breasts. With an impatient groan he swept the garment over her head and quickly lavished his full attention upon the ripe fullness. The increased sensitivity driving her own passion hard and fast and she threaded her fingers into his newly cropped hair. Already naked, he raised slightly from the tempting delights and grasping her hips, pulled her down to meet his own already pressing hips. His mouth claimed hers hot with demand, while his arousal probed between her thighs. Just as she begun arching into the experience, she suddenly pulled away.

“Ahanu!”

James stopped immediately, eyes wide and now darkened with another need. He pushed his chest off her, leaning his weight over her and drawing breath to voice his displeasure when he saw the genuine contrition in her eyes. Her hands cupped the sides of his face.

“Oh god James.”

“Yes, that is much nicer, thank you.”

“Ahanu…” His eyes narrowed, darker still. “That’s his name, Robert’s friend I mean. I just remembered it now.” She bite her lip and hoped for the best.

“I’d rather you forget other men’s names at such moments, hhhmmm?”

A few moments passed, eye to eye, and just when she was feeling the absolute worst, she felt his hardness still upon her thigh. The crooked smile flashed and a challenge infused the rich, warm amber tones in her eyes. She wiggled her hips beneath him, arching off the bed to wrap her arms about his neck.

“Well I’m sure you could make me forget just about anything James, if you really tried.”

_Damn she was clever._ And if it wasn’t one of the things he loved best about her, he might have rolled over and caught a nap. Bit difficult to feign indifference as he once had with her, with the rock hard erection throbbing on her thigh. The warmth, heat and the downy softness of the curls rubbed into his pelvis and he couldn’t halt the moan in his chest. His eyes dipped once more to the swelling breasts directly beneath his mouth that twitched with undisguised longing. Hips rolled over her own, and he slowly eased himself just an inch inside; held her gaze. She clenched herself tight about him and her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. Sensing she was about to gain back control, he leaned his full weight over her, careful not press upon her stomach, and pushed deep inside to the hilt. He didn’t even attempt to hide the smug smile at her gasp for air, but grasped her hands and pulled them above her head; guiding them to the slim poles of the headboard. The heat in his eyes holding a promise that she wouldn’t ever forget what was about to happen.

“Perhaps it’s best that for now you just remember… to hold on.”


	5. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked a question:
> 
> Right, so that was a smoking hot Alfie shot. So now it’s got me thinking about the Delaneys, yeah. Some good ol dumpster smut. That whole bit of Alfie commanding her climax just begs for a one shot of Lorna being told to hold out until James allows her release. You wanna give me that dontcha? 
> 
> Yes I do!! Although this is going outside my comfort zone a wee bit, I'll give it my best. 
> 
> WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+, orgasm denial

The lapping of the waves against the hull of the ship were a gentle rhythm compared to the random splashes heard from the water closet down the hall. Lilting strains of what was likely a theatrical tune drifted down the passage. A more pleasing sound than the screech of gulls that circled his anchored ship. Salt was in the air, on his tongue with each inhale, and beaded from his pores as James lounged by the bank of windows, hoping for a fresh breeze to cool his skin. A fresh shirt already dampened to his back in the unforgiving heat and his gaze flicked from the tropical island just beyond the boat’s bow, and back to the closed portal of his cabin. Another impatient rolling of eyes towards his pocket watch that rested along the window frame. 

_Twenty minutes._

He’d been waiting twenty minutes. 

His hands fidgeted with the hem of the cream shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. A finger touched a dark black band, but pulled quickly away for it only reminded him of her light touch that always traced upon his skin. He felt the pull in his gut and tightening in his crotch. All day long she’d skipped across his thoughts while he and the crew attempted to sail the ship into a nearby port with a low tide slowly winning the race. This fierce heat forcing many to adopt various states of dishabille under the glaring sun. Head tipped back and eyes squeezed closed, came the vision of beaded drops running down her chest to be lost in the transparent bodice. One strap slipping down her slender shoulder as she dotted the moisture with a handkerchief. Red curls teasing about the pale throat and clinging to her dampened breast.

Remembering their island time, he had caught her gaze and the flames leapt between them as though she read the path of his thoughts, and looked out across the blue expanse. A slow smile curving her mouth. He couldn’t anchor fast or close enough to that lush promise of escape that rose out of the sea. Then utter disappointment as it soon became apparent almost the entire crew had entertained the same idea. Climbing over the sides of the ship into the boats; several simply swimming the short distance. Frustrated his gaze followed her retreat into their cabin. A few short words with his First Mate and James was hot on her heels. A quickly barked instruction to Cole to remain on watch before he entered the cabin without a knock and swiftly closed the door with a resounding bang. 

He glanced once more at his pocket watch.

_Twenty-three minutes._

He had entered the cabin just in time to catch a glimpse of raised arms as the shift was a pulled over her head. Cinnamon curls lifted high to expose the smooth delicate skin of her neck for a brief moment, before cascading down her back in a bounce of red curls. One leg visible from calf to ankle and he rubbed his beard as he listened for the last footsteps above and debated his next move. His own boots kicked to the corner, earning a frowned look from around the edges of the screen. An arched brow raised, then a crooked smile when he reached to unfasten his breeches. Also discarded and tossed to a shadowed corner. The moistening of her lips telling him there would be no reproach for the offense today. Fingers grazed through his beard as their gazes held across the small space – he could be at her side and assisting with the divesting of any more clothing in two steps. One step forward and he realized he was already too late, spying the pale silk wrapper lifting in the air and finally she stepped from behind the screen, wrapped in fabric almost invisible and yet somehow hugging every curve. Its sides remained hanging open, barely concealing the pale orbs and his mouth watered despite an intense thirst. He groaned aloud.

“So it is torture then, hhmm?”

Smiling softly as she molded those curves around every inch of him, one leg rubbing the length of his own bare calves. Soft hands roamed beneath his shirt, sliding over the taut flesh of his ribs, then through over the furred, carved muscled expanse. Face lifted to his own and he was momentarily lost in those warm tones that sought to pull his soul to join her own. Her breath warmly sweet of wine and inches from his most eager mouth. 

“You wish to be spared Sir Dragon?”

With her bare breasts pushing against the thin line of his own exposed chest the only response was a grunt… and lusty grab of her bare ass to pull her closer. Her breathless moan silenced by the hot brand of his mouth. Melting into the kiss, into him briefly before pulling back.

“I’ll need a few moments to freshen after the heat of this day James.”

Not one to ever be concerned with gentlemanly ways, James only pulled her back to him. “Why, since it is my plan for us to be quite sweaty again in a few moments?”

Lorna, quite used to ignoring his lack of manners on occasion, only smiled as she untangled his groping hands and stepped deftly aside. One hand reaching to cup a weathered cheek. “Only a few moments ….. I’m sure you can **hold out** until then.”

_Cheeky minx._

Mumbled towards a door that closed. Twenty five minutes ago. Lost in his head as he’d been, he had not heard footsteps stopping just beyond the door and within seconds she stepped back into his present again. Hair freshly washed and left unbound to curl and temptingly tease around her naked form. Just the hint of rose tipped breasts revealed, and the same shaded triangle between her thighs. Her lips were glossy and slightly rouged; a pinch of colour high upon her cheeks. With a saucy wink she tossed the wrapper to join his pants on the floor. A pleasing scent immediately filled the room. Joining with the salty sea that swept through the cracked windows, and just beneath the feminine tone that was uniquely her. A craving ignited in his blood – he could just drink her in all day; had he not also wanted to take her with an almost violent passion.

Instead his patience continued to stretch as he watched her put lotion on her hands, then along the slender arms. Followed with a dab of oil in certain places – a coy glance his way unconcerned by the glaring scowl he returned. When she moved to pour a glass of wine from the sideboard, James finally released a weary sigh.

“Surely you can hold out a little longer James?” Brow raised.

He was across the room in two easy strides to pour his own libation. Standing before her with the brooding glare he tossed it back in one long swallow. His shirt pulled over his lean torso and discarded upon the floor.

“If you do not stop this toilette soon madam I will go mad.”

Her eyes caressed the lean length of him… one finger reaching forth to circle the banded thigh while she looked up through thick lashes. Raising her glass to take a delicate sip, allowing the wine to linger on her tongue for just a few seconds. James took her hand and retrieved the glass; letting it drop to the floor with a crash. Her eyes widened sharply, but before she could speak, the cool wood of the cabin wall was pressed upon her back. With a groan he lifted her easily to settle about his waist and her legs wrapped about him like a vise. Mouth hot on her still damp flesh; the soft demand of his lips mixed with the scratch of his beard. Breathing already ragged as his manhood probed at her opening demanding entry. A growl at her ear.

“You smell divine my love. I could taste every inch of you.”

Her head tipped back to allow him access; waiting for his mouth and mad kisses, but he lowered down her body swiftly and a gasp broke when she felt the brush of his beard upon the softness of her thighs. Within seconds of a few lusty tongue strokes and caresses of those plump lips, she was a writhing mess against the wall. Spiraling quickly to her end, hands dug in his hair to hold him fast. Then he suddenly broke free and sat back upon his heels. She could see his own raging erection standing at attention, though he paid it no mind. She couldn’t stop the moan of his name escaping her lips. He smirked from below and reached a finger forth to strum her swollen clit. Holding her eyes he worked his magic until she spiraled back up again. Then quickly withdrew once more. This time her voice came louder.

“James?” 

She looked so innocent of such bedroom pursuits still, it only drove him madder with need.

“Hhhhmm?”

“What are you on about?”

He wiggled his finger; a devilish smirk. “You wish to be spared?”

Her brow furrowed and he had a brief moment of self-doubt as to whether she would enjoy this game. Given how her face had quickly changed from passion to petulant; the odds might not be in his favour. She made to move past him, but he pressed her back against the wall; this time taking her mouth in a fierce possession. The growl once more deep in her ear.

“You like to keep me waiting love?”

He lifted her once more about his hips, emboldened by her immediate response to cling tighter.

“Oh, I see …”

“No, but you soon will.” He pressed his hardness against the wetness, held her gaze. “If you will trust me?”

Her nod was barely finished and he thrust deep to fill her completely. His pace relentless and driving her back up to the peak of ecstasy. The force of which he took her with strength and vigor a submission she never knew she’d welcome. Then suddenly he was drawing back once more. This time a hand grasped her own and lead her towards the bed on shaky limbs. There laying her out upon the quilts; the gentleness of his attention a stark contrast to the fierce lover moments prior and sending a different kind of shivering across her skin. 

“Now I will taste you as I promised, but you will hold out… until I say you may seek release, do you understand?” 

The gruff undisguised passion in his voice its own kind of caress upon her, she only nodded. Already on the edge with the thought of his mouth on her flesh. Between her legs and loving on her most intimate parts. James saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The nipples hard and erect and he teased one between thumb and forefinger, while the other hand nestled in the tight copper curls, softly teasing the moist folds. The waves of pleasure he saw beneath her flesh giving him great satisfaction. She was bent and twisting on the bed within seconds; her voice already a pleading whisper. He stopped immediately and pulled her up for deep kissing for several moments. Before a hand once more began its stroking attention. This time more insistent as two fingers probed deeply in time with his tongue in her mouth. Pulling her further along until he could feel her go limp in the one arm that clasped her to him. The tensing of her muscles and thrusting of her hips letting him know when to stop. His name fell from her lips as she was just about to tumble over the edge….

“Ahh…. Tsk tsk… I said when I say you can.”

She pouted so prettily he was almost willing to give in and allow her pleasure; knowing he could achieve it in a few more strokes. The power over her body a heady thrill that made his own arousal spike to the highest he could ever recall. Her eyes dark and limp with desire something he knew would wake him from dreams evermore. He guided a hand to his hard shaft, held it in place as they pumped it slowly. Squeezing to teach her just the right amount of pressure he liked. The tempo he required to remain in control to continue his game. Each time she went too fast, he pulled her hand away and shook his head gently. Seeing the calculation in her eyes he pulled her close to his mouth.

“Come now love, you touch me as I show you… and I’ll return the favour.”

Once more his cock was taken in her soft palm and this time she obeyed the instruction. Gliding and squeezing in a perfect rhythm that almost brought the end for him. He stilled her hand, then pushed her back once more and began his worship upon every inch of her. Settling between her legs once more to bring her back to the edge, over and over, until he could hardly stand her soft moans that grew in desperation each time he ceased what his mouth, tongue or fingers were doing. The begging began and he almost relented. Desperate to see her come for him now.

“James, please…I can’t…”

But he knew she could take a little more. She was a fighter and her own stubborn will wouldn’t allow it. 

“A little more, it will be worth it my love.”

He crawled up between her legs, palming himself back to fullness in a few strokes, then teased the head of his shaft over her wet mons. Her bud was so swollen with arousal and need it stood erect and each swipe of his cock across it had her bucking beneath him. He didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a bedding more. Her hips pressing up to try and sheath herself around him and he paused, catching her eyes; seeing the desperation. Allowing the tip to ease slowly inside and her head tipped back against the pillows. Short and shallow strokes taking them both to dizzying heights. This time he may have over-estimated his own resistance to being inside her. He groaned deep and pushed a little further, and her legs immediately clamped around him; holding him tight and deep. Her crooked smile of satisfaction as she held him tight not missed.

_This brazen fucking minx. She was outrageous and he loved her for it._

He was beyond delighted and rewarded her equal desire for him with a mad thrusting of hips for as long as he could stand the torture himself. Noting the biting of her lips and the digging of her fingers into his shoulders; her cries carrying far beyond their closed portal he was certain. Slowing his pace, though her own hips still tried to buck fast and hard. He knew the low moan and catch of breath that meant she was just about to climax and with a curse, quickly withdrew.

“Fuck James! Oh god….”

He chuckled softly at the rare curse from the end of the bed – ducking the pillow she tossed just in time. Her hands threaded through curls now damp with sweat and in complete disarray. Eyes wild and desperate as she stared back at him. One foot raised to lightly kick his chest, but he caught it easily. Kissed her the slender calf gently and slid his hand slowly down the length. 

“You’re killing me James.”

He chuckled once more, before taking both her hands and pulling her up and close against his chest. Her own beaded with sweat again - just as he promised.

“No. I’m awakening you Lorna.” 

Her eyes misted over and she took a ragged breath before kissing his cheek and dropped her head to a broad shoulder. Just holding her close, stroking gently along her back until he felt her breathing steady and she was pliant in his arms once more. Pushing the tangled curls aside he placed tender kisses along the nape of her neck. Moving slowly to her temple and her head turned to meet his mouth. A few moments of tender kisses and teasing fingers to bring her along slowly this time. Allowing the urgency to build at its own pace. The growl came from her this time as she pulled back voluntarily before the climax tore upon her. Her eyes almost feral as she tossed him an accusing look. 

“Very good love. You’re learning…”

“I’m going to hit you soon James. Or climb the walls. Or … I don’t know what…”

He wasn’t sure what made his own passion suddenly soar, but seeing the half crazed, wild and passion fueled state of her drove him near mad with wanton need too. He didn’t even trust himself to speak, but instead grabbed her roughly under the arms and pulled her onto his lap. His cock hot and throbbing between them. His hands tangled in her hair, but he caught her questioning gaze before he growled his own desperate yes now against her tender lips. She didn’t hesitate a second, thrusting down onto him with a satisfied moan. Clinging to him and he allowed her to set the pace to seek her fulfillment. It came quickly. Tearing through her with a blinding force until he thought she’d break him in two. Settling just as quickly and he pushed her back against the mattress and grasped her hips as he thrust deep again; this time the pace determined by him. She’d have another if it killed him. And he swore she damn near did when another climax ripped through her entire body; this time lasting so long he actually feared she might pass out when her eyes rolled back and she fell upon the sheets. But he could still feel the deep pull within her and every muscle in his own body pulled taut in attempt to hold back his own release. Hoping to draw it out another time; his pace slowing to deep, easy thrusts. His thumb applying pressure to her clit again. She immediately lifted off the bed as the third orgasm hit and this time he didn’t have a prayer of holding back when her walls had been pulling and squeezing him with a fierceness for nigh on two minutes now.

Exhausted himself and unable to bear his own weight, he lowered down and gathered her to his own heaving chest. Together they tumbled over and over, whispering words of love and desire as it seemed the very stars burst all around. His chest aching with the effort when he finally stilled his movements. Felt her limp and drowsy beneath him. One hand resting on the back of his neck and her nose pressed close against the side. Afraid of the emotion that might over flow from him if he dared speak. It was a wetness upon his neck that finally urged his voice forth.

“Are you well?”

A feeble nod and she only moved to wrap her arms tightly about his neck. He heard the half mumbled and almost sleepy I love you whispered against his hot skin. His own love a fierce beating in his heart that choked his voice to silence. He pressed light kisses on her shoulder, her neck and brow before rolling onto his side, still holding her tight. Her easy breathing and soft sigh suggesting she was already falling asleep. In his arms, where he planned to keep her the rest of the night. Resting peacefully in the assurance that she would always meet him with equal measure; always up to the task he set. Wanting him as he wanted her; a gift he had taken for granted once but now saw the full value. To say he loved her fiercely didn’t seem enough. 

Knowing her own fierce will and mischievous bent, he knew there would be a reckoning coming. Smiling at her relaxed features now deep in slumber, he couldn’t deny how immensely he was looking forward to the payback she would extract. His manhood stirring as the possibilities filtered through his mind and her warm, soft body snuggled closer. Kissing her temple, she loosed a happy sigh – closely followed by his own as he resigned himself to holding out for another few hours to allow her rest. Her lips parted in a sleepy mumble of his name as a finger slowly traced along a bold band; and the tightening pull came again.

He’d give her twenty five minutes.


	6. Crossing Frontiers - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: can you maybe write some one more james x lorna fluff and smut ☺️ i miss them so much omg and your writing is amazingggg 
> 
> Don't mind if I bring someone else along I hope... James is going to need some fighting help eventually.

Her gaze swept over the tree line as twilight settled over the edge of wild forest of pine and birch that stood on guard like black and bent sentinels weary of their long post. This lush horizon much different than the stinking, crowded London streets she once called home. Or the always distant, sinking line viewed from the rolling deck of a ship. This was her home now and she sighed contentedly; placing another dish to dry upon the rack. Grateful for the window view, her eyes combed the dense brush for any movement. No sign of her friendly beast tonight and she wondered what had kept him away, while the smoky scent of meat lingered in the evening air. Turning slightly, while tucking wayward red strands behind an ear – all was quiet down the hallway. Evening shadows fell across the wooden planks already showing signs of wear and glancing towards the rose hued sky she expected the boy would be home from the store soon. His company most welcome on evenings James was sailing. She smiled softly as she thought of the boy she would soon have to call a man.

Lorna turned from the window, reaching for the kettle that always sat upon the stove top. A chill was already drifting through the open window and Robert would most likely enjoy the welcoming warmth of a spot of tea. It was their habit to sit by the fire on such evenings while he shared his day. A much more verbose companion than the other male with whom she shared this cozy cabin. Especially on those nights when an over tired and always curious Jaci did not want to settle for bed. The now 15 month old girl trying every trick her small mind could muster to avoid the dreaded bedtime. Holding out even during her weary mama’s sweet melodies – her wee eyes struggling valiantly against the pull to sleep. Oh but she already had more than her fair share of her father in her; and truth be told it made her mama smile to think so. Yet there was something about the gentle, quiet spirit of Robert when he cuddled her close and began to speak in low tones. A small fist knotted in his shirt while she gazed adoringly up at him, until gradually both grip and eyelids gave up their hold and sleep calmly came.

The sudden sound of a boot-step upon the porch brought her from the kitchen to greet the boy. Half across the living room threshold her quick mind caught the heavy step — much too heavy for a slight boy of 11 years. For a moment her heart quickened, hope burning that James had returned home early, but her steps faltered. A quick glance revealed the portal unbarred, as the evening was still early and the boy due at moment. Still, a lady alone had plenty to fear in these wild frontiers and she remained rooted in place intently listening as the unfamiliar steps approached. The loud knock high on the portal; definitely the firm call of a man. James never knocked upon any door to enter, and certainly neither would Robert upon his own home. Another firmer rap and she glanced towards the room down the hall praying the child would not awaken. A gruff voice from the other side and her back stiffened, but before she could move to secure the bolt, the door swung open. Hinges creaking loudly in the silence while the light was blocked from the massive, hulking form that stood silhouetted in the waning light. Long hair that hung loose and tattered about his fur rimmed and blood spattered coat: openly revealing the knives hung visibly threatening at his side. Her eyes wandered up his massive bulk, determined not to show fear. The full mouth and hawk like nose in a face that was handsome in a brutish manner, and finally meeting the piercing gaze. One eye visibly scarred.

But it was not the scar she had hoped for.

~

James curious gaze was focused on the ship docked at his pier. The unfamiliar flag hung limp due to the lack of wind common in this protected cove where the Nootka settlement was nestled. Eyes narrowed as he strode confidently down the plank and stepped upon the weathered gray dock to gaze over the smaller vessel. A single mast sloop that was certainly no ocean ship; at least not for sailing a great distance. The shallow draft indicating it was designed to move faster and be capable of navigating the shallower coves and bays that were scattered around the region. Settlement in the area was expanding as the fur trade also increased, thus it was not surprising a few had found their way to Friendly Cove. A young man sat upon a barrel watching James warily as he came to stand beside the lowered gangplank, hooded eyes shadowed beneath the tall, black hat. A chill ran across the man’s skin and for the first time in years the ghost stories of home resurfaced in his mind. His thick Irish accent took James momentarily by surprise in this remote region.

“Mornin’ ter ya. Ye be James Delaney?”

A grunt and single nod while the piercing eyes flicked from stern, to open waters, then back once more.

“Oi wus towl yer were gone on a ‘untin’ trip.”

“Not any more.” James lifted one heavy boot upon the plank and pointed finger in his direction. “And who are you?”

“Name’s Michael, but 'tis de captain Declan 'arp dat yer 'ill want ter se.”

A finger of his own pointed in the general direction of the settlement and James brow creased in sudden worry of a strange man of unknown temperament searching the settlement for him… and likely being lead directly to his cabin where Lorna and his wee daughter….

A tips of his hat and a mumbled thanks and James strode purposefully from the dock. His lean fingers already twitching upon the smooth carved knife handles at his side.

~

A high pitched giggle could be heard from beyond the thick portal, followed immediately by Jaci’s squeal and what sounded like tiny hands clapping. A low gruff undertone layered the feminine and James paused with one boot upon the steps _that certainly was not Robert’s voice._ Grim set jaw, he strode silently across the porch planks, pausing before the door with his head tilted; judging where the now breathless laughter of his wife was coming from. A toe edged the door ajar, and through the slit he could see the wide, bronzed muscled back standing before the row of kitchen shelving. Thick, muscled legs in tight breeches braced wide… and Lorna’s trim ankles and slippered toes facing forward glimpsed between.

James brow furrowed deeply as his gaze traveled upward to where large, sinewy biceps stretched over a head of unruly, sun-bleached hair, until his eyes found the pale, pink infused cheeks of Lorna over a toned shoulder; her jaw slack as she gazed upon those strong hands. One pale, slender hand resting lightly upon the stranger’s chest. Nostrils flaring, a hand on auto pilot reached for his waistband, fingers twitching in time with the nerve along his jaw; rigid as his gaze now focused on the man’s hands. Too late understanding dawns, and just as the mans fingers grasped the mixing bowl high upon the shelf, the knife whizzed close by an ear, and embedded itself in the thick log wall. The threatening thud followed by Lorna’s gasp of surprise, as her eyes widen in shock and fall upon his own stony stare. Jaci squealed with delight _dada_ and began an awkward crawl towards James; one hand trying to reach towards him. Her eyes bright and shiny in stark contrast to Lorna’s shocked and slightly contrite own.

The stranger merely turned his head just enough to peer over a shoulder; brow arched high. Two scars faced off in the dim light kitchen while a baby demanded attention and a wife understanding. James in no mood for either. Finally the stranger slowly turned, a backward glance towards the knife with its blade glinting under the low light.

“Not bad Mr. Delaney. You have skill with a blade. But I heard that about you.”

James eyes shifted momentarily towards Lorna before a grunted response, which only raised the scarred brow higher and wry amusement twisted his bearded lips. A step forward and he paused, the steel eyed gaze returned to him telling him this was no man to trifle with; especially with the safety of his wife and child of foremost concern. He spread his hands wide, then folded them neatly in front.

“I assure you however, there is no need.”

_Muuaahh._

The man paused in step and glanced back at Lorna with a questioning look, brows raised high and it was then Lorna loosed a heavy sigh and then covered a cheeky grin with her hand – and stood silently staring back at James. Declan swore he saw a challenge in her eyes and in that moment cursed the colour red as a hue sent to test him at every turn.

“Madame, if you could but explain….”

“How is it that you know my name and where I am to be found, hhmm?

“Ahh, good he speaks.”

James eyes narrowed and a hand went to the still full leather scabbard on his other side. Declan raised his hands and moved forward. Sensing the mounting tension and the sight of Jaci having reached her fathers legs and now pulling herself to standing, Lorna finally stepped between the two men.

“Honestly James, this is Declan Harp. He’s a fur trader … from the East. That’s how he knows about you…. us. This place.”

James grunted once more as he pulled Jaci into his arms, noting a slight wince on the man’s face as he gazed upon them, then strode forward brushing past both wife and stranger to retrieve his knife from the wall. Balanced perfectly in his hand, the knife flashes silver streaks across the walls, ceiling, and floor. Jaci following each flash and cooing in his ear. Declan’s eyes never stray from the blade itself. Until a question is posed.

“From the East, hhhm? Then you have no love for the Hudson’s Bay Company I presume?”

The stiffened jaw and darkening eyes were all the answer James needed, the thick with anger reply offering further proof

“No I do not.”

James glanced at Lorna, noting the still flushed cheeks, though he knew nothing improper had occurred. Cheeky minx that she was, she returned his gaze, daring a reproach. Her chin raised and eyes flashing and hell he was well and truly stirred to establish his claim in dominance in the matter right now. But business first.

“Mr. Harp, is that your ship at my dock?”

A nod, “Aye, it is.”

James grunted once more and stepped closer to Declan, the blunt side of the knife raised to tap upon his broad chest.

“Good, then come. Let us speak of important matters.”

Declan’s brow raised once more; unsure if he was more intrigued, or wary of this strange man who already reminded him so much of himself.

“Important matters? Us?”

James smiled for the first time, but it did little to settle any nerves.

“Yes, us. I may have a use for you Declan Harp of the East.”

The words came slow and low and Harp could only nod solemnly. James pointed towards the front door, indicating their leave and Declan strode forward, slightly nervous to have this man at his back. Over his shoulder, he caught James stepping closer to hand his wee daughter gently over to his wife. Mrs. Delaney stood tall and he noted not one ounce of fear or hesitation as she returned the fierce gaze of her husband. James patted Jaci upon her dark curled head and then placed his mouth close to his wife’s ear.

“And you my lady, I will deal with later.”

Her lip caught between teeth and her eyes shone back – a little dash of defiance mixed in with the passion. Declan heard her whispered reply from the arched doorway and attempted to conceal a smile.

“Promises Mr. Delaney, promises.”

For the first time during the entire exchange, the men exchanged a look of bonded understanding. A genuine smile flashed wide in Delcan’s tanned weathered face James could now see still had the dark marks of lingering bruises. A knowing look of weary resignation passed between them and as James reached his side, a large hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“It’s alright Mr. Delaney… I got one at home too.”

James met the amused gaze leveled at him and shifted uneasily, “One?”

Declan couldn’t resist and tossed a cheeky wink back at Lorna, before laughing outright. A deep throated guffaw that sounded at once strange, but quite possibly what the cabin nestled at the forest edge had been waiting to hear. He leaned in close to James and nodded knowingly.

“A redhead, Mr. Delaney.”

_Muuah._

__~~ to be continued ~_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't checked out Frontier on Discovery Channel or Netflix, it's a very interesting show that has elements quite similar to Taboo. Not quite as dark or supernatural tone; but Declan is every bit the dangerous man James Delaney is also.


	7. Give The Lady Her Due - Crossing Frontiers Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: can you maybe write some one more james x lorna fluff and smut i miss them so much omg and your writing is amazingggg
> 
> Continuing on with life at Nootka disrupted by an unexpected visitor from the East, who catches Lorna's eye; much to James displeasure.

The glow from the fire spread its glow throughout the cabin as the darkness stretched blackened shadows into the corners. Their voices had long ceased, letting the stillness of the night envelope them, while the bright orange flames wrapped them in warmth. A gentle sigh and Lorna glanced down to see Jaci’s eyes struggling to remain open. Her thick lashes settling upon her tender cheeks, than snapping back open, only to flutter gently down once more. Until they rested still and her wee face took on the peaceful look of angelic repose. Across from her, Robert’s chin nodded upon his chest repeatedly and she wrestled with how much longer to keep the boy awake; awaiting James return. Her curious mind wondering what could these two men – strangers to one another – possibly have to discuss for so many hours. Especially given James tendency towards more grunts to do his bidding than actual speech. Recalling the size and gruff demeanor of Declan Harp, she highly doubted neither grunts nor speech would easily bend him to anothers will. 

Her mind lingered on the finer aspects of the man; that hulking physique and deep growled voice. The long hair hanging tangled and thick and the terrifying wicked scar across his eye – and no doubt a host of others. He was as wild as James she suspected. The heat rose on her cheeks and with some chagrin she knew the blazing fire was not to blame. The sudden clop of heavy boots upon the front deck causing her to sit up quickly as though caught red handed in some burning fantasy. The sudden movement disturbed the babe who fussed her displeasure, and vaulted Robert from his chair to stand between the two females under his protection and the unbolted door. Lorna waved a hand to reassure him. If she didn’t know the tread of James foot by now, her thundering heart and racing pulse surely let his presence be known.

The door was thrown open, as was his reckless manner, then bolted for the night with the thick wood slid in place. Turning, with the black hat low on his brow and dark eyes scanning the interior in one efficient, yet thorough sweep. They landed briefly on the boy, noting his protective position and slightly brightened. A brief nod and the boy beamed under the unspoken praise. He swept the hat from his head to land upon a nearby table, and then turned the full measure of that gaze upon his wife and child. Jaci’s drooping eyes snapping alive at the sight of her daddy, while Lorna shifted uneasily and swallowed thickly under his intense regard. He crossed the room holding her gaze and she unfolded slowly from the chair, for once her eyes cast downward. James paused briefly; taken aback by the unusual demure response. Distracted by his baby girl demanding attention; her tiny arms stretched out while she chanted Daddy in Twi. A rare smile broke James face and with a last look upon his wife, he gently took the child from her arms and snuggled her close against his chest. He could spare a few moments for indeed she had become the delight of his heart. Each day bringing forth new wonders of fatherhood he never expected. Lorna’s gaze lifted to watch them. Her entire world held tight in the arms of a man the outside world feared. Except these two tender hearts who knew and loved him best. James brow lifted.

“You are tired?”

A single nod.

“Why don’t you go ready yourself for bed and I will settle the child, hhhmm?”

A hesitant smile before she slipped quietly past, dropping a brief kiss on Jaci’s dark, thatched head. The child watched her go with a small pout, but soon was distracted by her father’s deep tone.

“Robert, you will tend to the child tonight if required.” He cast a look at Lorna who had paused to look over her shoulder before reaching the hallway. “Her mother and I have pressing business to settle this evening.”

Lorna felt both a chill upon her skin and a fire build within her blood as she met his gaze. For a moment she lingered, silently staring back – and then the subtle raising of her chin and James smiled darkly in return. _There it is. My fire and ice._

Robert noting how both the heat and tension had considerably risen in the room, quickly took the child from James arms and headed to the nursery. Saying a quiet good night to Lorna who still stood frozen in place. James moved first, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it upon a chair, before sitting heavily down upon the sofa, reaching for his boots. A single step she took towards him, thinking of assisting in the task, when the sudden boom of his voice broke the silence. The words edged with both impatience and coated in thinly veiled lust.

“I suggest madam that you be finished with whatever is necessary before I get these boots off and tend to a few things… and then come find you not prepared for me.” He raised a heated gaze towards those deep brown eyes that glowed with warmth and he was sure a bit of indignation. The crooked smile flashed and she dropped a curtsy; but the set of her jaw warned of the storm within – even as she bite her bottom lip before turning away from him without a word.

James tugged off a boot and tossed it behind him; the smile stretching wide and his gut filled with fire. _She’d be ready._

~

He was greeted by a darkened room. Only the barest illumination shining through the lightly curtained windows and casting the room in a bluish glow. Aside from the soft thud of another thick cut of wood barring entrance, silence also greeted him. James momentarily frowned as he gazed upon the bed where he could just make out her still form. A slender calf just visible in the pale moonlight glow. Treading quietly to the bed until he came to stand at its edge; jaw flexing hard while he rubbed at the stubble upon his chin. _She would not feign sleep on him this night. Not that she ever had._ As his eyes adjusted to the meager light, he caught the gaze reflected back at him from where she leaned against the pillows. Calmly regarding him, though he could also see the rigid set to her own jaw. But the eyes didn’t lie and he hummed softly in the quiet space; two fingers stretched forth to caress the slim ankle nearest. Her mouth parted and a small gasp came forth and ignited the fire within him to a bursting flame.

Lorna gave a small shriek when her ankles were grasped tightly and she was tugged in one swift motion to the edge of the bed. Her thighs brushing against warm bare thighs and she was aware he’d already dropped his trousers. The long shirt hung loosely open upon his frame; the heat of him already coiling about her own bare flesh. The dark bands caught in a stray ray of light and her pulse quickened; fingers itching to touch. Her hair hung loose and in disarray, but his hands swept through the mass of curls until it was caught in a strong fist. James pulled slightly until her head was raised to look at him. She shook her head in defiance and he thought he might have seen a real flash of anger in those dark orbs. His grip lessened and a thumb moved to stroke her cheek gently; she leaned into the caress and softly sighed. Stroking down across the full mouth until it parted for him and pushed the digit inside the warm, moist cavern; watched her eyes slam shut. His own moan escaping before he could halt it and too late he saw her eyes flicker open and the change within. A glint of the wicked come forth and he groaned aloud again and caught her hair in a tight grip once more to pull her up to him. 

He was met with resistance, but any frustration quickly dissolved when he felt the light brush of fingers tracing the inked band upon his thigh. Jerking back when the curve of her smile pressed against his lower abdomen. Feather kisses landing upon his scars and markings; tracing the two inked bands just beside his navel. Breath held, he allowed her this small victory, for the pleasure she wrung from him in these small gestures alone was sublime. And the tide would change soon enough. His fingers caressed throughout the luxurious silky lengths, watching the play of the moonlight upon the red tones. The shade so deep and vibrant even the glory of Selene could not over power it. He smiled in the dark while he watched her tongue flick out to travel down the treasure trail that lined his stomach. Felt the deep pull within his balls the lower she reached. The single flick across the swollen head that threatened to buckle his knees and he knew she was smiling her victory even as warm hands cupped him gently. He growled deep and sought to distract her and reclaim his power.

“You like dangerous men my love… so much so they are welcome here in my absence?” His fingers flexed through the silken strands.

He received a mumbled reply as she swallowed his hardness and grit his teeth while he fought for control. A loud hiss escaped as his head tipped back to watch the moonlight patterns on the ceiling while he enjoyed a few slow, wet strokes. Almost willing to let the matter drop and give in to this teasing goddess of the night, when suddenly she released him and sat back on the edge of the bed. Her tongue darted out to lick her full mouth and the urge to take her right then was a powerful surge. He knew she could feel his need like a scent in the room, and yet that calm, sure look of assurance stared back at him.

“I only like one dangerous man James. And only because he’s no danger to me.”

_Muaah._

He bent low over her, cupping her chin in his hands. “I think you play with fire.” He brushed a thumb over the bottom lip. “You do, don’t you?”

By the tilt of her head, he knew immediately he was wrong and braced himself for the retort coming. She paused, let the moment draw out.

“No James…I am the fire. Are you sore because you cannot douse the flame?” She nipped lightly at the pad of his thumb. “Fear another will risk the burning and…”

The rest was lost to the night as James yanked her roughly upward to meet a demanding kiss. This time no resistance offered and he could not deny her words as the fire spread through every limb and ignited his passion. His lips crushed and bruised the tender mouth; no gentleness to be found while he sought to plunder and stake his claim once more. His head swam as she melted into him – all part of the plan – and he could find no anger that she enjoyed the game a little too. He pulled away with no small effort and she hung limp in his arms.

“Madam by god you will be the death of me.”

He tossed her back upon the bed and it pleased him greatly that she did not scoot away. Her night shift had caught about her waist and gave him a good glimpse of the golden red curls. Lorna saw his nostrils flare and for a moment worried she’d gone too far.

“I suggest my love, you take that shift off now if you ever want to be able to use it again.”

She came to her knees and rose slightly, drawing the delicate fabric over her head. It sailed past James head as he ducked just in time. Her soft laugh a needed break to the tension that had built. But his eyes were lost on the pale flesh set aglow in the moonlight. The longer curls still cast in bluish red flame that coiled about her slender form. _Mine._ The word struck like thunder in his mind. That spark flashing along the thread that always stretched between them and he heard the lightning crash in return: _Yours._

Beyond the windows a lone wolf howled in the night and he caught the grin before she could hide it. The wildness in her that tamed the wild out there and him the lucky bastard she allowed to bend her nature; just a little. She was poking the tiger this night and he knew in some way he was probably losing this battle, but hell if he cared any longer. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled up to meet her; gathering her close into his arms. Her own hands making quick work of the shirt that shielded his nakedness from her. Sliding down the muscles and scarred ridges that crossed his broad back, a frown marking her features. His head shook in the night and the hushed _tsk tsk_ pulled her back from unpleasant thoughts of the pain he had endured. The tender heart that balanced the wildness in her. Suddenly the game losing its appeal, when all she wanted was for him to possess her fiercely this night. Give all of himself until she was filled to breaking.

_James._

The change of tone was not lost and he covered every inch of flesh he could reach in mad and fevered kisses. His tongue and fingers demanding that she open fully to him. Her arousal peaked high and fast; filling the room with a tangible scent and he chased it with a delirium that fogged his brain. Pushing her roughly against the bed as he settled between her pale thighs and pinned her hands above her head. A desperate plea voiced and he swayed as though drunk on the absence of shame she felt for her wantonness.

“Don’t make me wait James. I can’t hold out. Please not to…”

Her plea ended with a gasp as he plunged inside and filled her completely. Already bucking against her hips strong and sure as his passion goaded him along. Her back arched high to receive him and he felt the grip tighten in their clasped hands. Their eyes met and he saw the flush creep upon her cheeks as her breath came ragged and torn. A climax already overtaking her and she was lost in its grip; nails digging into the flesh of his palm but he continued the unrelenting pace. The pressure of her pulsing walls on his cock almost a punishing thing along with the pleasure, but he held on while she writhed beneath him. Turning her head to silence the moans that overtook. A few moments and she lay still, chest heaving, but he gave her no release. Her eyes grew wild staring back at him, and a brow lifted.

“Only one of many my moon goddess. There will be no release for you before the dawn.” He slowed his strokes, watched her eyes dim. Knew she loved the slow caress of him drawing his length in and out; inch by teasing inch. Her bottom lip caught tight in small even teeth. “Unless you wish to be spared?”

_Stay with me love. Ride the night with me._

The hunger burned in her eyes once more and her legs wrapped around him tight. One hand freed to pull him down to meet her mouth. Their teeth gnashed together in the demand of the kiss. She caught his bottom lip in those sharp little teeth before he pulled away.

“Spare me not Sir Dragon… breathe your fire in me. I have a use for you this night.”

James paused his thrusts, but held himself still inside the tight warmth. Surprised to hear his own words flung back. Words he’d never used with her. His head slanted as he peered down at her smiling face. Not quite sure if she was still teasing him. 

“A use … hhhmm?”

She nodded and struggled for her release beneath his weight, rising up to snuggle close against his chest. His heart hammering beneath the press of her breasts. He settled her about his hips, still sheathed fully inside, and met her mouth in the slow, easy kiss that always set the darkness in him back. Her lips trailed across a bronzed cheek and kissed his scarred eye gently before settling against his ear.

“Yes, for all of you James. Don’t stop until we’re both weary and drained and then I shall be filled.” She pulled back in his arms, rocked her hips against him; drawing him out slowly and then pulling him back in as she pressed close again. “Hhhmm?”

Her eyes sought his understanding and it suddenly hit him with the force of a blow. His first reaction to recoil but with her hips still moving upon him that proved impossible to resist. The idea had been in his own mind for weeks and now it settled in his heart – and with a determination in his manhood. He pressed forward, burying himself deep inside and with a smile of satisfaction she arched back in his arms. He pulled her back against him hard and growled against the column of her throat.

“I warn you love, I shall be most determined in that pursuit.” He nipped gently along her collarbones while his hips already set a thrusting pace within her. “You will not be spared until I say it is so.”

She pulled him closer in reply. Once more he pushed her back against the soft mattress, pulling her hips close against his thrusting pelvis. The rhythm set and she raised to match it in equal passion. This dance they’d been dancing for what seemed like an eternity now imbibed with new purpose. He spared her not as the moon slowly left is lofty perch and descended across the sky to be met with the now fiery fingered Aurora marching her golden chariot across the sky. The tangled tendrils of his lover’s hair now caught in that flaming glow, as she still clung to his passionate possession. Moon or Sun, his goddess met him at every hour, drawing him deep and emptying him until the sweat grew cool upon his back and brow. 

Breathless and blissful they collapsed on dampened sheets, their hands reaching for the other while the dawn spread across the land. Its golden fingers prying through the airy curtains and spilling light upon the bed where they lay in quiet repose. James watched a ray crawl up a pale limb until it settled in a bright circle upon Lorna’s stomach. Her hand unclasped from James and settled within the circle of light, and she turned her head upon the pillow to find his gaze upon her. An uneasy smile upon his face, but a light of hope in his eyes. His tanned hand lifted to cover her own and the Twi fell in hushed tones. Her eyes closed as he spoke the words, her heart alone catching the meaning. Absently she felt the brush of lips across her brow, the warmth of his body pressed close. The gentle weight of their hands over her womb. With a contented sigh she gave herself over to sleep. James knew the moment her breathing changed that she was lost to slumber. His eyes watched her for a few moments more, full of wonder that it was she who matched him so well in life … and love. To think that she thought he a good enough father to want more children caused his heart to constrict tight in his chest. He waited quietly for what he knew would come, and sure enough the fingers fell light upon his skin; tracing the lines and scars that he bore … and that somehow she always managed to find. 

In darkness or light; she always reached for him and it was her touch alone for which he remained still. How she managed to both empty and fill him, he’d never know. The longer they were together the less he cared about such secrets. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the light touch that would ease his passage into dreams. Whether they’d be beautiful or dark ones come to torment him; she’d be there and they ride it out together. 

They’d never let the other fall yet. He thought of the plans made this evening. The deals struck and the alliance forged. This place would be defended. He would not be sent away this time; and this love would stand beside him to save what was worth fighting for. His final thoughts forged into a single word before he was pulled into a deep slumber: _Home._


	8. The Devil's Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the HAND SERIES - features James Delaney and O/C named Mae

The stench of the docks permeated the dank wood walls of the tavern so deeply no amount of scented oiled could ever fully erase the fetid notes. With the ever present scent of sweat, sex and strong liquor, all together it created a cloying staleness that induced a gagging reflex upon entering. Soon either forgotten or overcome by the promise of pleasures to be purchased within. No matter how long Helga ordered the windows thrown wide to catch a breeze, the only result was the newly added layer of briny salt. Neither did the drunken chatter ever quite cover the sounds that came from above. The groaning, moaning cries and off beat bangs merely muted. Nearly every surface was set aglow by various candles, and the chandeliers etched haunting lines on the faces below. Shadows retreated to the corners where skirts could be lifted for a quick profit. Then back to the long trestle table for another gulp of brandy to drive both stench and shame to their own dark corners. 

Still, as far as dockside bordellos went, it was not altogether unpleasant. The company and libations both plentiful and cheap. At the end a huge fire at least succeeded in driving the persistent damp chill from the tavern. Two high back chairs offering a cozy seating that gave the illusion of privacy. Her eyes darted about the place, flickering beneath a layer of thick eye makeup that had begun to run in the corners. All was illusion here. Then in this life she’d learned long ago, nothing was ever as it seemed. And likely not the man sat before the fire with brandy bottle tipped in a steady rhythm.

Garbed entirely in black from the big hat atop his head, the long coat with tails covered in mud and likely horseshit, and the thigh high boots which fared no better. The way they hugged his muscular calves sufficient to grant forgiveness for their sorry state. Mysterious and aloof as he chugged alone; an odd mumbling chant often falling from his lips. Incantations hissed into the flames with a spit of brandy, uncaring of the sparks that showered forth. His lean jaw was covered in a light beard and set in a rigid line. A rugged face that still managed to be handsome despite streaks of dirt and what might be ink. Along his neck two dark bands peeked from beneath a soiled shirt collar and she had risked many a side glance out of curiosity. They called him an adventurer thought dead and now come home. A savage from ungodly lands who was rumoured to have done the most wicked things. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of what those black gloved hands might be capable of doing. They flexed about the flask and she caught the whisper of the leather. He gripped the bottle tight and she imagined the squeeze about her tender throat; an involuntary gasp and his head slowly turned. The full weight of his gaze sufficient to continue the struggle for air, but damn if that wicked scar upon his eye didn’t set her heart to hammering. A devil they say. God she hoped it be true. 

 

His eyes held her, darkness visible within their depths as he gave her form a thorough scan; lingering at the swell of her heavy breasts. She coyly ran a finger along the curves and smiled when those dark eyes followed the lazy tracing of creamy swells. The fingers on one hand rubbed back and forth as it suspended in the air above his thigh. Abruptly he turned away; spilling the bottle contents upon his form and the dusty floor. A muttered curse before draining the remainder and her tongue licked dry lips as the liquid spilled down his chin onto the bronzed skin revealed by his open shirt. Empty bottle tossed to the floor and he called for another in a deep tone more growl than human voice. Shivers ran along her spin and her sex quivered. The thought came of the things she would let this man do to her – for hours – and not ask a single coin. The devil himself would blush for shame. Though she had heard rumours that he had not lay with whores since his return, there were also tales of a famous actress he kept in his home to serve his lurid bent. _Lucky bitch._

He stretched the dampened gloves before the fire to dry just as the barmaid handed him another bottle. Catching her eye once more, he cast a cheeky wink and raised the bottle in silent toast before devouring another deep drought. She couldn’t tear he eyes away from the full lips pulling upon the neck. Fingers curved along the bottle edge; molding its lines. Her pulse quickened, eyes beaded on the other hand as they tapped absently upon the sides of the chair. His agitation at whatever plagued him evident. 

The scent of danger hung about him like a living thing. And it only enticed her further – beckoning to the reckless will that often saw her land in the most odd and dangerous of situations. A slow glance over his shoulder; eyes roaming in an unfocused, slow blinking pattern that managed to be deadly sexy instead of drunken leer. Hot lust surged within her and danced with the fear that gripped it’s talons along her racing nerves. She found the potential for wickedness an intoxicating lure: and something about this man with his hat pulled low over shadowed eyes hinted at untold promises of wicked. Her own eyes darkened with pure need as he stroked the clipped beard. _God he was filthy._ She cared not. Clean people were suspect. Throw a little dirt and blood on a man and she only wanted to climb on and add to the foulness.

He flexed his lean fingers and she heard the squeaky stretch of the black leather gloves. Imagined they would be soft against her flesh, even as the hands beneath squeezed their strength about the slender column of her throat. The thumb pressed close upon the pulse feeling her excitement tinged with fear. Fingers would roughly brushed against her mouth and across the tavern she caught the scent of sweat and horse and the raging need those piercing eyes couldn’t conceal. The scar above his eye stretched while his jaw held a rigid line as slowly one hand raised. The thought came that it would be as streaked with dirt as his face and form appeared. Certainly there would be dirt under his nails and she felt the wetness began to seep from her center. His eyes sought and held hers while one lean finger crooked and beckoned her forth. In a flash of skirts and bouncing of considerable breasts she dashed her way to him: breathless and a little dizzy. The devil had come calling and he was as dark and dangerous as you’d expect. She’d always liked tip toeing the line of good and evil. Cavorting with sin. But since she’d come to Helga’s Brothel —. she had learned to love it. 

~

She stood quiet and waiting before him while he scrutinized her person. Like a sinner awaiting either judgement or benediction as the flames warmed her backside. She shifted, uneasy for the first time.

“You are James Delaney? The one they call the Devil, yes?”

His head only slanted slightly, neither denial nor confirmation in the grunt that issued forth.

“I have a use for you.”

Good God a single sentence and she was already wet. Thighs sticky and trying to hold that piercing gaze. A single finger had touched her upper thigh, resting there while he waited a response. She edged the other leg so that it brushed his own and leaned forward; heavy breasts threatening their delicate lace confines. He never blinked – just that hard stare and her gaze lowered wondering what else was hard about this man. 

“Why don’t you sit and see for yourself Mae.”

She blinked in surprise that he knew her name; and damn if the devil had not read her mind. Not one to wait for a second invitation she lifted her skirts and moved to straddle his lean legs. A single grunt halted her.

“Ack!”

His hands settled about her hips as he slowly shook his head. The warmth penetrating the material. 

“Hhmm, other way.”

The light pressure turned her about and then with a sudden yank, she was pulled down upon his lap; buttocks pressed close against his pelvis and her face bearing the heat of the flames. The heat from his body penetrating her wool dress, though she shivered with the contact. His cock was hard as stone and fit neatly beneath her burning sex. A little gliding motion all required for both of them to find a happy ending to this evening. One hand already beneath her skirt and massaging her inner thigh while his breath rasped against her neck. Another long pull on the bottle and she used that moment to swivel her hips against his fullness. James arm tightened almost painfully about her waist and the bottle was pressed into her hands. Mae raised it to her lips and drank deep to steady her nerves, but a gloved hand squeezed about her throat before she could swallow a drop. 

“Now I will tell you my plan whilst we sit and drink, and you will do exactly as I say, or you will be taking your dripping pussy back over to that bench unfulfilled and I can watch all the men lay bets as to who will satisfy you best. Hhhmm?” The slightest brush of leather against the curls bare beneath her slip. “But I assure you the satisfaction will be greater with me; in both pleasure and reward.” A slight pressure upon her clit with a gloved finger pushed her further against his chest; feet pressing into the worn floor boards. A tease that would have torn a moan from her throat had he not held it so firm.

She nodded silently, voice already strained from the pressure upon her throat, though her desire was only spiraling higher. The leather was soft and faintly smelled of horse and gunpowder. Just the right amount of grip and she squirmed upon his lap. Slowly he eased the force, but kept his fingers resting lightly on the pulse that raced beneath. Another brush of leather across her mound, a bit rougher on the sensitive flesh and her back arched against him as she moaned aloud; passion freed from restraints. A gloved finger pressed upon her lips as his mouth nipped her ear and a whispered _sssshhh._ The other fingers ghosted over her sex as she writhed upon his lap. James grasped her chin and pulled her head back to fit in the crux of his shoulder. Drawing his beard across the tender flesh, while the whispers of those strange words caressed. Her legs opened a little further and she knew it would be obvious to anyone that glanced over what was transpiring before the fire. Her buttocks ground upon his cock drawing a deep groan that vibrated from his chest down her spine. A grunt and snarled retort.

“Wicked thing.” But there was no judgement in the tone. 

The bottle was pressed into her hand, the contrast of the dark fabric with her own muted lace that left her fingers uncovered striking. 

“Drink.”

The bottle touched her lips and the faintest hint of his pipe remained on its edge, her tongue licked at the rim before taking a hearty pull. Ending in a gasping choke to find him pulling a glove free with his teeth. Eyes bold and daring; the flames reflected in the iris and she was sure now he was half devil. Before she could even glimpse the flesh, it dove back under her skirts and the swipe of a bare digit across her sex left her gasping. A finger dipped inside to test her wetness. Then that low deep grumble and grunt in her ear. 

She surrendered to the spiraling arousal as he laid forth his plan in her ear, and plundered her aching center. Alternating an easy gliding that created the most sublime friction, with a rough circling of her button. Far more talented he was than any paying lord or gent. A fine sweat covered her heaving breasts, the glow of both flame and passion leaving its mark upon her. His hand was doing such divine things; three deep inside and coaxing the trembling of her walls. No mere fluttering but building a crumbling climax that mounted the desperation for a proper fucking. Her head turned to rest just inches from full lips. His instructions halted as James peered at her, waiting.

“I want you inside me. Now.”

Her hand reached down to grasp his length. Her smile curving wickedly when it bucked and throbbed at her touch. A brief flash of brightness in those dark eyes, and maybe a hint of sadness. Then they briefly narrowed and the pulse in his jaw ticked. After servicing customers for many years, Mae could do a bit of mind reading too. He wanted it – but he didn’t like that he wanted it.

“I would rather you worked with me.”

But he didn’t remove her hand. Instead he set a rhythm within her that she caught and matched in easy, firm strokes. Satisfaction lighting her face when his breath hissed through his teeth and his eyes darkened another shade. A subtle moving in his hips and she knew she had him enthralled to her skill now. Expertly she unfastened the breeches so she could feel the hot pulse upon her fingers and James moaned long and deep at the soft caress stroking the head. His gloved hand tangled in her hair, pulling tight as his breath panted upon her cheek. An easy adjustment of her hips and the folds of her skirt and she could rub along the hard and throbbing length; encouraging the pace of his fingers deep inside to quicken. 

She rolled her pelvis and James cursed aloud at the first slick pass along her slit. Covering his length in her hot juice and aiding her hand strokes. His own pelvis rocked forward for another pass and for the first time his eyes closed. Giving himself over to the pleasure of the molten caress of those silky lips over his cock, with the play of soft fingers that massaged the head. She met his pelvis the next time and rubbed the head over her button, felt him stiffen against her, but he didn’t draw away. She sensed the holding back and understood the limits of their play. There would be no fucking… but still a sweet ending to this unbearable longing. A few more glides upon his cock and his hand cupping her sex and the fire coiled in her gut. A fine sweat now glistened in the fire glow upon his chest. A smoldering in his eyes and his jaw hung slack as he drove his hips faster beneath her. James head turned and sharp teeth bit down on the index finger of the remaining glove and tore it free. 

Pulling her tight against his chest, he slid the bare hand over a ripe mound, squeezing the nipple between his thumb and finger. His dick pulsed between then and liquid fire streaked through his veins as he paused just at her entrance; then pulled back with groan. A painful squeeze upon the breast, but Mae’s eyes were focused on the veins in his hand. Plump with the hot desire coursing through him. Lean, dirt smudged fingers flexing with each fondle. The briefest glimpse between her bared legs of his other hand working her sex; those fingers covered in her arousal and glistening in the fire light. Such beautiful hands… she moaned aloud and another curse came from behind. The graze of his teeth along her skin when his own orgasm began to build. The slightest sensation of him inside enough to send her tumbling over the edge. It hit with such force she rocked back violently against him, just as his own lust propelled him forward. Barely breaching, but a delicious tease that left them both panting and her fingers dug into the muscles of his thighs. 

Instinct told her she must resist that urge to take him fully inside. As though confirmation, the pull on her hair tightened and he jerked his hips back just as the hot jet spurt between them. Pooling and cooling quickly under her buttocks. Deep grunts for air by her ear and then James face dropped to her bare shoulder. A gentle bite that only stoked her for another round. Then just abruptly, she was forcefully set away from him. Swaying lightly with her back to the flames and her skirts still half stuck about her hips. A flash caught her eye and she noticed James held up a small diamond. Brilliant ice on fire in the glow of the flames and her eyes widened. 

“This is yours.” He held up a finger still soaked in her juice. “Once you find me a ship.”

A quick turn on her heel and straightening of her skirts, and Mae waved her fingers in the air without looking back. 

“And another bottle.”

A quiet word with the young mulatto up way past her bedtime, and it was only a few seconds before James had another bottle pressed to his lips. His hands still uncovered and she took one last lingering look. Already she could feel the desire for him mounting within. Best hands she’d ever had to satisfy her so intensely, and still leave her wanting more. Mae smiled to herself, the promise of that diamond already igniting a whole new world of possibilities. The working girl face returned as the stepped out into the blackness and let it swallow her into the city’s after dark activities. Breathed deep the dockside air that no longer left her gagging. Her steps striding purposefully in the direction she knew the Captain would likely already be under several whores and sleeping it off. Prime for the picking.

If she pleased the Devil, maybe next time she’d get that proper fucking. Though she had a feeling it was more likely she’d be watching him – and those skilled hands – sailing away.

Just as long as she had that diamond in her own.


	9. Sharp Edges - James Delaney x Reader (Hand Series)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unrequested one shot as part of my Hands Series -- and much darker and primal than I have previously written James. 
> 
> HEED WARNINGS: NSFW, 18 +, rough sex, dubious consent, mention of knife play and cutting, anal sex

Forgotten was the cold, hard stone of the attic walls when you melted into his touch and felt the heat surge between pressed bodies. The walls flickered in strange orange and green licking flames from the fire in the hearth and the misty glow from the foreshore behind the circular pane. You didn’t know if it was a kind of heaven, or the mouth of hell opening to receive an aching soul – but your body was ready no matter where he might lead. The rush of blood pounding in your ears and the hiss of the flames the only sounds in this dark, old mansion that remained quiet only for him. All its secret years bound within faded paper walls, half empty jars of perfume and paints, and over stuffed drawers; though it beckoned him with whispered hints as he sat most nights before the fire. Tonight the air hung with a cloying sweetness from his smoke fire that mingled with the damp chill, the sharp bite of brandy on his tongue, and the heavy, musky promise of primal sex. The fire hissed and crackled, its heat insufficient to banish the chill that raised bumps as his fingers trailed along the pale flesh. 

Or maybe that was just James; for he always shifted from one world to another. Light and dark. Heat and cold. Dashing and Damned. Ever caught in the riptide. Pulled along and spit out upon the dry banks when all was said and done. The journey always wild and free, if not lasting. Swallowing thickly as he groaned and panted and pressed his hips into her own; all her wild imaginings of the evening as she watched him by the fire coming to life. Eyes that had never strayed far from those hands as they performed the mysterious tasks. Dipped in paints that he applied to his bronzed and inked skin. Savage and seductive spread eagle before the dancing flames. Breaking the skins of ripe, juicy fruits with a lustful push of fingers into the sweet flesh. The sucking sound of his tongue drawing forth the nectar from their tender skins causing the wetness to seep down her legs. Head tipped back as their orange blood ran down his throat. A guttural groan felt to the tips of your toes. Oh how you wanted those hands to tear you open and devour the inner most secret places. Suck out the very marrow of her being and swallow it to join his own reckless, wandering soul. Moaning hoarsely as he gripped tighter and suckled flesh where the pulse quickened beneath the skin. Welcoming the little bite of pain and tilting your head to give him more access. Lost in sensation and sin, clinging desperately to the faded, soiled shirt that hung from his broad shoulders. Lost in him.

James raspy, clipped tones beside her ear pulled her attention back while he uttered deep, throaty promises of such wicked temptations. His fingers gripping her skirts into tightly balled fists of crushed velvet. That’s how she felt – like something soft and luxurious soon to be broken by this dark devils desire. She had been desired by men before. Body bent and layered in sweat as passion swept her along. But she had never been craved. His head raised and her gaze met the stark, mad hunger within his own eyes. Two shades darker she’d tell … if there was anyone to tell, but she was just another secret the Delaney mansion was bound to keep within its dying walls. She craved consumption, and to be consumed by James Keziah Delaney was to be marked. Just as deep and lasting as the tanned and inked skin she now clutched close. His various scars and brands testimony to the mystery of the suffering he had endured. And inflicted, if the rumours were true. 

Her dainty fingers glided across the smooth flesh where his skin seemed to glow and bleed black tortured memories in each drop of sweat. As if he was broken anew and leaked upon her own fevered flesh – binding them ever closer. Before he ripped them apart, lost in his own head of memories and madness; only to come seeking her again before the ashes had barely cooled in the grate. A cycle of lust and indifference that always ended in pain, only to come chasing the brief euphoria of their coupling once again. Those few, brief moments he was bare to her – open, gentle - the drug that kept her coming back again and again. It was a beautiful and torturous thing to carry the weight of his own vulnerability. To be so needed by one who needed nothing of this world. 

It was dangerous. _He_ was dangerous.

It was too much altogether. A heart such as yours was not made to shelter the enigma that was James Delaney. You weren’t strong enough, and the part of him that sensed the weakness, enjoyed the small flashes of pain he could inflict with the pleasure. Knowing you’d bend and beg for more. The only way to survive the tempest was to focus on his hands. To be both protected and possessed a dizzying notion to your own lost nature. These hands that brought such intense pleasure, and the soul such sorrowful pain. If you let them mold you to his will, you too could share in the sacred art that brought a twisted smile to his lips. The knives didn’t even scare you anymore. Gaze keenly focused on the practiced motions that sharpened the blades. The long, lean, dirt smudged finger that tested the blood before turning it upon your own pale flesh. The sharp sting that brought a blessed release leaving you breathless, followed by his own grunt of demons released. For now. There would always be a next time, for there was always more with James. 

This was not love; but exquisite anguish. 

The two of you caught in a twister of need bringing more destruction than beauty. A lust that burned deep but the ties of loyalty always tore him away, and left you alone. Sated, but still wanting - reaching for something you couldn’t grasp. James was the thing that was easy to get. The mutual attraction leaping across crowded rooms. Nights ending with clammy gloved hands tearing the fabric from your body while you sighed softly yes before you even considered whether a question had been posed. Grasping your supple curves harshly while his thick cock ravished both body and senses. Desperately clutching your tender throat as he pumped his hot seed inside over and over until the night was banished to the corners of the cramped attic space, and he fell panting by your side. Your voice hoarse and cracking on the morrow from your own screamed desire and his brutal taking. 

But James was even harder to hold. You’d never know the feeling of waking up on a sunny morn wrapped in those strong arms holding you close. The long fingers brushing tangled raven locks down the curve of your back while he whispered sweet promises. Slow and gentle hands taking you with an unhurried pace; worshiping you like a treasure rare. You’d never even known the sweet brush of those full lips upon your own soft mouth. Such things were for lovers and you were only a Need. An itch that plagued him no matter how deep the surface was scratched. Those hands brought both freedom and a cage, for you could never imagine another man taking you to the heights of passion James so easily did – while still holding a tether that bound you to him. One day this wound – an affront to your pride and independence – might fester, but for tonight: those hands were yours.

You leaned into his toned frame, peeling the shirt from his shoulders and ran a chipped nail along the raised scar, then dragged it harshly across his nipple. Just a little too rough, knowing he’d extract a price. The eyes darkened another shade as you met his stoic gaze. One hand raised to lift the hair from your neck so gently you held an expectant breath. Maybe tonight the softening will come. You rubbed your cheek lightly against the bruised knuckles and James smiled. Breath released as hope stirred – and then was quickly lost. A crooked bent still lingered at the corners of his mouth and now twitched in amusement. The jaw tensing and eyes flashing his eagerness so intensely your heart hammered within your breast and cunt dripped with longing. The thumb brushed across your bottom lip, dragging it down and the air went so still and quiet and like a fool you thought…. maybe….

James hand moved quickly to twist tightly in the hair at the base of you neck bringing a yelp of pain before he crushed his mouth to yours. A bruising clash of tangled tongues and gnashed teeth that seared the skin to blistering. You breathed each other in like a welcomed poison that might end the suffering of your shared traumas. Soft curves held in a pinched vise as the other hand held you fast and the punishing meeting of mouths continued in wanton, animal like grunts and moans. Until James tore his mouth from yours and hissed dangerously.

“That was most unwise.”

He pulled back to search your gaze. The only pretense he allowed suggesting you had any control over what may come. Fist flexing and tightening into your scalp as his breath came in deep pants of unhinged passion.

“Tell me how is it that you bring out both the best and worst within me, hhhmm?”

Wisely you held your silence. Once again a thumb brushed across your mouth as though he could pull the answer from your trembling lips. It slide upward to stroke a flushed cheek; more gentleness like a promise dangled. Need brightened your gaze and you leaned closer; straining your yearning body into his own hardness. His hands moved to rest upon the walls on either side of you – knowing how desperate you were for his touch. Gaze holding you in place more intently than even his hands ever could. You pressed your pelvis closer. Felt the twitching bulge even he couldn’t deny as you fumbled with the fastening of his breeches. Bold and far past any pretense that this wasn’t exactly the best of him that you wanted. His nostrils flared loudly when you brushed the swollen head with a soft palm and suddenly your back was pushed against the wall with one strong hand, while the other was between your thighs and brushing across the dampened curls before you could catch a breath. His thick fingers plunging inside the already slick folds and your head slammed back with a deep moan. More cries filling the small space as he mercilessly plunged in and out of your quivering cunny. 

You clawed at him, desperate for more. To be filled as only he could fill you. His expression blank as he slipped another finger inside and pressed you back against the wall. Dragged the roughened pad of his thumb across your swollen clit and watched your eyes wild with desire. For him. Circling with cruel, rough strokes until your cries grew louder and your body trembled and shivered on the brink. Only then did he move his other hand to circle about the tender column of your throat. Pressing and holding the erratic pulse with a thumb, while the other continued its mastery below. For one brief moment you were desperate for air, need and orgasm forgotten as your gripped his shirt into tightly fisted balls. His gaze held you still; a hint of gentleness in the depths that tore your soul. Glancing down you saw his cock dripping with its own need and lifted pleading eyes back to his own. A twisted smile and he replaced the thumb with the purple, pulsing head rubbed along the delicate pink folds. You sighed deeply and relaxed your limbs, except where you feebly clutched his strong shoulders. Allowed his full possession of your lithe body that betrayed you as it stretched and opened to his ardent attention. He released the pressure on your neck slightly, leaning forward to nip lightly with a deep groan. Your voice constricted so that all you could do was whisper his name.

“James.”

A deeper groan growled against the soft skin. Sucking deep along your flesh with guttural abandon – but no name fell from his lips. You were a vessel. A chalice he drank from when the mood struck and unmindful of its broken edges. James didn’t need you to be whole; only of use. Desiring him so much for using you so well had made you one of his Damned. You moaned and pushed your hips into his probing fingers. His grip about your throat tightened so that the room began to blur and spin. Your focus drawn to the tightly corded veins that stood out upon his arms; straining with effort of both pleasure and restraint. His jaw tensed and in the low light you noticed his eyes had dimmed as black as the midnight hour. His fingers fucked the soul right out of your body and you gladly handed it over. Your desperate gaze telling him his power over you was complete. 

With a roar he buried his throbbing cock to the hilt - driving himself deep and hard until your knees threatened to buckle beneath and bring you both crashing down. Sanity fled each time he withdrew and plunged forward, his thumb still pressing upon the delicate hollow of your throat. The stars were out you dreamily thought as your head twisted to view beyond the circled window. He roughly pulled it back and bruised your mouth in another brutal kiss. He wanted your eyes on him. To watch his mastery over your young body that bent so easily to his wicked will. This brutal fucking that sent you soaring and left you bruised and battered upon the landing. Never left unfulfilled, but barely surviving the taking. Your oxygen deprived mind already wondering when you could be of use to him again. Coming undone as you submitted to each kiss, mauling as his hands now tore to find more bare skin to nip and suckle and his pounding hips that rooted him deep inside to massage your sweet spot. Blinded and branded by his unleashed passion that swept on. The sardonic laugh as he finally released your throat and you gulped air like a wriggling fish still caught on the line. For caught you were… spun around with your cheek now pressed against the damp coldness and musty dust filled your gasping lungs. A stinging slap that watered your eyes, as his hard cock pressed between ass cheeks he swatted apart before driving his entire length inside your tight hole. You pressed back as new sensations of liquid heat leaped across every cell in your body. A newly stoked fire burning in your gut and you craved this consumption most of all. To be filled everywhere with his desperate and dark ardor.

“Aaahh, I think you like me best when I’m being my worst.”

No denial left your lips as you rocked in time with his thrusting. Hands gripping your hips so hard his nails drew blood, but all you heard was the panting, grunts over your arched back and gloried that it was you driving this man to his own limits. Your skin becoming as marked as his own by lips, teeth and the rough grazes of his beard dragged along tender curves. James bucked hard into your ass and you squeaked aloud with the raw sensations his cock created when he fucked you with complete abandon. Primal and primitive, and your need to be taken matched his own need to conquer. A thing never talked about in sun filled hours, and so you fucked each other raw in the dusty shadows of a dead man’s attic. Righteousness was never in the cards for either of you anyway. 

Only James could read your mind that still silently begged for more, and you hummed with pleasure as he grabbed locks of hair with one hand, pulling your head tightly backwards. His other hand moved from your hip to caress along the lovely arch of your back. No shame in the moaning curses and filthy things that tore from his throat as he climbed towards his own end. Finally it moved around to plunge inside your cunt and you bite down hard to keep your own cries from being heard down the long creaking staircase into the kitchen where his nosy old servant probably sat nursing another Delaney bottle with one ear tuned towards the attic. Your head twisted sideways to capture his thumb inside the moist cavern of your mouth. Sucking and licking along its ridges and James howled in pleasure and rammed himself harder. His flesh slapping against your own in wet sounds that would be obscene if you were not both climaxing together in a sweaty, thrusting and grunting heap of molten need. Your cunt and ass clenching and pulsing in unison while his hot seed shot forth in a burning benediction. The two of you bathed in sex juices as it squirted from your pulsing cunt. 

_Yes. This._ To be filled completely by him in every way. To be owned so thoroughly, but to also bring such a man to his own knees; helpless with the rutting urge you stirred. To be of Use; if not by heart, at least by hands. A few moments in this wretched life to feel something once thought unreachable amidst all the lonely, false hours of your waking self. Some unnameable glory in the few enlightened moments of release he gifted; before you must crawl back to the festering stink of a decaying city. Back to the gilded bars that made up your daily life once again; mask firmly hiding the inner you society would scorn. Quickly you were spun back around as James dropped to his knees burying his face in your still pulsing sex, tongue probing deeply. Your hands clutched the shortened spikes of air and held him fast, circling your midnight curls against the grizzly, ginger ones that surrounded his mouth. Strong fingers biting hard into your rounded buttocks as he devoured every drop he could wring from within. These few reckless, wretched moments your only salvation; sacrificed by his hands to the solace of his own irredeemable soul. Your head bowed prayer-like to meet his still hungry, desperate gaze.

_Mold me. Own me. Free me James._


	10. And the Devil Smiled On Me (Prequel to Sharp Edges)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> I loved the flow of Sharp Edges! It felt threatening yet poetic and sensuous… would you consider writing a prequel to it?
> 
> >> So this is a prequel that describes the night James Delaney and the O/C met, thus it is not as NSFW as the previous chapter, nor is the focus so much on HANDS

The air hung heavy and humid in the faltering light. Even the wind holding its breath expectant while the brooding clouds hung low over the crashing waves. Standing stoic and defiant, another tempest brewed alone down by the shore, head lifted to scan the ominous skies. The scent of rain mingling with the salt of the sea, while the fire’s heat licked upon the bronzed marked skin. Suffocating in the stillness of the approaching storm James turned back to the flickering flames. Sharp eyes and features carved in amber flashes. His bare feet gripped the countless grains of sand; while delusions swirled in their delirious dance around the fire. Strange utterances and Delaney brandy spit from his mouth and the flames leapt into the air, banishing another ghost to the dim shadows that crept along the edges of the foreshore. Beneath the silence came the low rumble of thunder. A streak of silver split the sky and the hiss of the fire announced the first drops of rain. Low tones spoke over the blaze as his eyes dart wildly about – anywhere but towards the dark vision rising out of the sea where the waves crash like titans upon the craggy rocks. Over the drive of wind and rain the notes hang low and lyrical. _What fresh hell this come to twist his tortured soul further?_ The wind began to howl in mournful harmony, sweeping the airy sprite into his circle of light.

Stumbling barefoot and disheveled, James swallowed a brief gulp of fright as billowing lace skirted the flames. Tangled, raven as night tresses hung obscuring her face as this wild child stamped over the ghosts of his past. Scattering their last fading vestiges among the hot embers. Her voice faltering in raspy tones, and through the dimness James saw the heavy bottle tipped high. Scarlet liquid dribbled down her chin mingling with the spitting rain as it ran in rivulets seeping through her open bodice. Imagined the sweet dense wine mixing with the salty sweat of her flesh upon his tongue. Resuming some haunting nursery like tune, her dirt caked feet attempted intricate steps about the burning driftwood. An absurd and erotic dance that had him immediately enthralled. Her head thrown back and eyes closed, she gave herself to the hellish night. Pulling the bottle dry between the verses and maniacal laughter that sent a shiver over his skin. The last drops sucked with a coy eye finally turned toward him and James felt the summons ricochet through every cell in his body. A shower of sparks cast about them as she tossed the empty bottle into the flames. Pale and unsteady she advanced towards him, not a glimmer of fear held in those strange violet eyes. The clouds loomed and growled above them; a charge that snapped the air to alertness. 

Silently she took the bottle from his hand and tipped it back, eyes drifting dreamily down. His eyes fixed on the pale, slender throat that pulsed with each deep swallow. A thirst thickened his tongue, and James reached out to touch the midnight locks. _Are you real?_ Blinking as his mind struggled through both buried trauma and heavy drink to determine if this was just another wraith come to torment him. She smiled and licked the beaded drops from her lips. Slowly backed away with a firm grip on his bottle, only to stop short trapped by the painful pull on the lock of hair James held tightly in his palm. That flicker of fear that pumps blood into his veins and expanded his pounding heart. She saw the flare of nostrils wide and made to spin away, but James hand tightened over the tresses and yanked her back roughly against his chest. For one breathless moment she stilled, and then her laughter rang out over the black waters. An eerie fairy laugh that only stirred the fire in his blood further … _why does she not fear me?_ Her chin raised to meet the hardened gaze and then the laughter died in her throat. He knew the moment she glimpsed the darkness of his soul. Watched her teeter on the precipice of falling into the abyss where both horror and beauty await. 

Twi words fell gravelly and coarse into her ears. Incantations that captured her dulled senses, hummed in such a pleasing rasp that tickled softly upon her rain dampened skin. 

The fire spit and crackled and one word branded upon her mind: _Danger._

Then another: _beautiful._

Mesmerized by his crooked smile, she leaned in closer. Papa always told her if she was a good girl and minded her ways, one day the sun would shine on her with favour. Looking back later, she would realize it wasn’t God, but the devil that smiled upon her that fateful night. And like an errant fool, broken and bold, she smiled right back.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go home where you will be safe.”

Her eyes widened, lower lip caught between small, even teeth. 

“I am not a fit man for you to be near.”

Stepping back, she spun around and cast a teasing smile, “You look right fit enough to me Sir.” A pale palm arm stretched forth, fingers inviting. “Do you dance sir?

“I do not.”

A dismissive laugh and she caught up her skirts hemmed in briny mud and twirled about him. Surprisingly light on her feet and always keeping just out of reach. Humming her siren song through stray locks clinging to ruby lips. An image flashed of the white beast before a sacred fire. Black limbs flailing all around him teasing and taunting, ever out of reach… then cruel hands that cut and burned his flesh. A great pain that squeezes his eye tightly closed as the soft thuds of her feet upon the dried muck grows louder in his head. Pounding, pulsing, a rhythm he thought long forgotten begins to shape. The distant drumming tempting his body to sway with hers. The voice of flame calling out: _Remember._

James snaked out a hand and grasped her about the arm to cease her movements, pulling her against him in a dizzy half faint. Her small feet sticking so that he was forced to bear her weight; the soft curves and ripened breasts pushed close against his chest. Locks like ravens wings coiled about them, a silky rope that begin to bind. While her scent rose to his flaring nostrils; an intoxicating mixture headier than Delaney Company’s finest. Dirty, lean fingers snatched the bottle and he swigged recklessly; wiping a forearm across dripping lips and stared into her widened eyes. The pretty, blood-red pout so tempting an invitation.

“Are you deaf? I don’t dance.”

“Well. “ Quickly she retrieved the bottle. Tongue darting out to taste along the opening before tipping a fair amount back. James watched the droplets course down into her heaving bosom. “That don’t mean I can’t sir. Sir…..sir??” Her head titled to the side giving his first glimpse of the delicately defined features glistening with scattered rain drops. “Who are ya anyway?”

Her head tipped back to better view him. Squinting through blurred vision and looming darkness, then filled with curious wonder by his own scarred eye. She pressed a finger on the cheek below… “Aye, but yer still a handsome bloke ain’t ya?”

The smile caught him off-guard. Unabashed and pure it spread like a gentle river that pooled in the depths of her eyes. The familiar floating sensation suspending him in place and he could not tear his eyes away. Words still fell from the ruby lips, lost to either wind or enchantment. This delicate, airy thing - like a bird tossed about the storm and landing just for him. Young and unaware; but flashing temptation and oozing longing with every beat of her heart. What held him was the loneliness hidden in the depths. A desperation that had not crept into her tone or body, but clung in the buried recesses of an ancient rhythm. He only needed to lay a palm upon her breast to feel its wild, rapid refrain crying out to join his own. Such fearlessness - to be out here alone on the shore in the witching hour. Unless she was but another wraith come to beguile him. His head shook several times to clear the muddled thoughts and her words reached him once again.

“Do you live here…Sir?”

“James. James Delaney.”

The sudden gasp and retreated steps raised a brow. 

A grunt of amusement. “Aye, so you have heard of me.”

The colour began to drain from cheeks that bore a flush only moments before – so not ghost or witch but just a girl. Nay, a reckless, beautiful, spirited young woman. He was already taken with her. Already imagining her wildness yoked with his own in the darkened corners where no words were needed.

“They say a girl seen once with you is never seen again.”

“Do they? And what other shit do they say?”

“That you’re a dead man.”

“Ahh, well yes … that much is true.”

“Well ya don’t look dead to me.” 

Her palm reached forth and lay upon his chest. Rain channeling over her slender fingers and coursing along the fine boned wrists. Warm and gentle upon his scars and inked bands that always called to mind the pain one could learn to endure. A hardened stone that felt nothing until the heated caress made it pliable once more. Heart hammering beneath her own fluttering pulse and James drew a breath; surprised at her ease of touch. The willingness to be near him, touch him, bare her own wanton bent, called to him louder than any sirens song within a seedy tavern. Or memory of the past proven false. 

“They say you eat human flesh.” 

Her eyes glanced towards the fire, scanning over the discarded and half burned fruit. The paints and feathers rustling in the breeze. Noted how the air infused with a sweet, woodsy scent interwoven with the sharp tang of the sea. Her gaze returned to James - curious and cautious - but he saw the glow in the jaded flecks between the deep, violet shade. His brow furrowed and he leaned closer. Never saw eyes like that before. So deep; so open. All her desire easily read as hastily brushed script upon the parchment. Fresh spilled ink so easily smudged. The slow blinking lucidity of his own gaze betraying him, James turned away to break the spell.

“Will you devour me Mr. Delaney?”

He half turned back, muscles carved in moonlight while his chest heaved for several moments.

“Perhaps you see why it is safer for you to leave now? For us both? Should you not be found in your bed on the morrow and my fire still conveniently warm?”

His eyes widened and instinct told her it was experience which spoke, though she could not escape the ominous foreshadowing of her possible fate. 

“If there is danger here, perhaps I should stay with you. Is it not your duty as a gentleman to protect the innocent?”

A single grunt for which James made no apology.

A few swaggering steps and he retrieved his bottle once more. Beneath arched brows his hardened gaze filled with rage as he swallowed a huge gulp of brandy and spat into the fire. Great flames roared up around them sending a baptismal heat to fan upon her face. His smile twisted and grotesque in the flickering light and still she thought him a beautiful creature of the dark … so like a night wraith upon these shores and she the airy sprite come seeking his warmth and strength. A dreamy smile lit her features and a silent curse fell from his lips, though his eyes never left her form. Nor did he suggest she leave again. 

“Why do you come here? I have seen your fire from …”

“I have sworn to do very foolish things.. muuahh.”

She laughed lightly, a nervous trickle glaring out of place against the roar of the crashing waves. Amused, James passed the bottle into her small hands, felt the bolt of electricity leap along his flesh as their fingers briefly touched. Wary and unsure he stepped lightly away. She raised the bottle in a lopsided salute.

“Well good sir Delaney… if you be not dead, nor devil, nor devouring beast than I should have nothing to fear … and so we shall drink. And dance until the sun bids night creatures such as ourselves back to the pits from which we have crawled.”

She spun and twirled with abandon, hitching her skirts up in a daring show of thin, pale thigh. The bodice of her gown loosened about her shoulders and the moon glowed upon the half glimpsed, creamy orbs. A rosebud nipple teased with every curtsied bow and James stood rooted to the ground; blood stirring and the hot need coursing through his veins. His cock twitched and lengthened as both temptress and flame danced in his eyes. The bulge in his breeches drawing a flirtatious glance, then turning with a flick of her skirt that gave him a good view of the curve of her ass before lowering it once again. A saucy glance tossed over a bare shoulder and the fire groaned and boiled in his blood. Her dainty fingers reached for him and banished any lingering visions of claws grasping from beneath the waters. The memory of chilled bony fingers tearing at his flesh melted away when his own paint and mud smudged hands wrapped around her smaller, warm ones and enclosed tightly. A great sigh escaped. A yearning moan that echoed across the vast beach littered with the dead and feeding crabs. To be touched again. To hold and pull one’s aching need alongside your own restless pursuit. James dragged her roughly to him once again; their eyes locked and the small fear she held only excited him further. Clamping his rutting urges down, but she molded her slim form into his own. A free hand ran upon his chest to rest on a strong shoulder

“You should not be here miss.”

“Ah, but I am.” 

“I. Am. A. Very. Dangerous man. I am not fit…”

Her shrill voice pierced his ears and slowly struck at his core of resistance.

“Fit? For what? Errant young ladies running amuck by the shore in the dead of night? The only danger I am in James…” 

She faltered a moment at the utterance of his name, while a single thought drove through his mind: so soon. A shaky breath before her composure returned. 

“Is whether I will drown out in those crashing waves from this drink… or despair?”

It was then he saw it. Recognized the gnawing want and burning need to feel something. Anything… as long as it released you from the aching hours of a tedious, tortured life. If only briefly.

His gaze softened, a moment of gentleness to ease what would come. The pull between them already a taste on his tongue. He could smell her desire even with the stench of the shore clinging to her clothes. It was inevitable two such souls should meet by the sea when a storm was gathering. He ran a finger down her cheek; followed the trail of a single tear. An uneasy smile that for one brief moment reached his eyes and to that single glimpse of gentleness and strength, she tied her hopes.

“I almost drowned. Twice. Do you want to know the secret?”

His tone deep and breath hot on her brow… she swallowed thickly and only nodded. 

His hand gripped her neck tightly forcing her closer as the words hissed by her ear: “You’ve got to just let go. The river will take you of its own accord. Be willing to follow its flow and trust it will bring you back to life.” 

His mouth trailed from her ear, along the now flushed cheeks to the corner of her parted lips, their breath mingled in misty clouds.

“Do you understand?”

Her head nodded feebly, held in his strong hands. A softly whispered yes tumbled in a cloud of cold mist from her parted lips.

His lips held just inches from her own, “I am the river…. are you willing?

God help her; caught in whatever mystical spell, or trance he had cast. Her body trembling with something she couldn’t name. Her heart thundered against his own and her mind screamed warnings she knew would be ignored. Now that her eyes were suddenly opened to a new world, she could only fly through the cage door he had flung wide. 

Her head tilted forward, the barest graze of his lips against her own, her reply breathed in the exchange … _yes James, I want to fly._

A bolt of lightning struck nearby followed by the sudden crack of thunder. She jumped and threw her arms around his neck. Felt the hard press of his need against her lower stomach. His eyes so dark she could no longer read a thought from their silent depths. James ground his pelvis against her own, and yanked her towards his mouth; crushing down upon her tender lips. So sweet. His blood rushed into his ears as their tongues met and he sucked her lower lip harshly. A deep groan that roared between them, followed by a small helpless mewl as fingers clutched into his short, clipped hair. Her weakness to him driving his urges to darker places and he clamped down on the fierce need that licked along every nerve. 

He could take her - here by the fire. With the sea roaring and the crows picking lifeless limbs nearby. Yellow eyes of the bone thin dogs watching greedily from the shadows. None would know hunger tonight. He needed to taste, to lick the salty and fear tinted sweat from her skin. His mouth ravished down the pale throat so freely offered… found the beating pulse that leapt beneath the skin, suckled to a bruising. Faint moans urging him further down while the thunder rolled and the cool drops fell upon the fevered flesh. His tongue teased along the hard lines of her collarbone. Lapping the chilly, acrid drops to the hidden valley of her breasts. A pliant nipple standing erect in the pale moonlight; he sucked it between his lips and rolled his tongue over the tip. Felt the last vestiges of her will surrendered as his name was moaned breathlessly above. The musky scent of her arousal drove all other sensations back into the shadows of his mind and all James knew was Need. 

Sinking to his knees as his fingers delve beneath her skirts; soft thighs already spreading open at the slightest touch of his thumb. His face buried in the soft curls and he breathed her in with a throaty growl. This sweet, wicked little thing come to tempt him and he would give her the full measure her reckless spirit had come seeking. He nudged his mouth along the slick folds, sucked the swollen bud lightly and ran the rough of his beard over before taking it back between his full lips again. She writhed into his face desperately seeking more. Rain beating down now like pellets upon his naked back and his knees sunk further in the loosened mud. Flashes of lightening catching them in an eerie, erotic silhouette that incited a yearning deep within anyone who should spy them wanton and wicked beneath Natures raging skies. 

Her knees knocked against his body. Goosebumps raised along the flesh as the chilled wind and rain took their lashes, and some quiet voice that still remembered who he was brought his head to seek her gaze. Soaked to the bone and lips shivering, though the fire still burned in her eyes, and he knew she would remain there bent to his will if he demanded it. So willing. So taken. The fire sputtered and slowly the last ember doused to life. James rose on shaky legs and grasped her hand tightly within his own.

“Come on. Is not fit for man out here tonight.”

She stumbled along behind him; wet skirts dragging her limbs and teeth chattering. The wind whipped her hair against her skin and she wondered how he seemed unaffected to the bite of the storm. Her fingers moved the dampened locks that clung before her vision… catching the dark gleaming eyes as he gave a twisted smile over his shoulder.

“Or beast…. Hhmuah.”

A great hulking mansion of obvious ill repair even in the grey shrouded night loomed before them. No welcoming light flickering behind the glass panes… save but one as her neck stretched upwards to the very top of the gloomy manse and found the glowing circle of light. Her hand gripped tighter in his own and with a smile of gratitude that he paused a moment for her faltering steps, before gripping her elbow tightly and leading her towards a darkened door.

That was the night she followed the dangerous man home. A devil. A cannibal. Whatever he was, she felt the same gnawing hunger ache within her wretched soul. Her weary eyes had been closed to any hope… but now the lock had turned. He had gifted her the key to freedom. 

The river would take her…… whether it was to heaven or hell: that she did not know. What scared her most, as she stepped inside the darkened hall and the exhilarating rush of anticipation danced along skin that still remembered the hot press of his lips… was that she didn’t care where that open door led. 

“Sit there.”

Gathering her soaked skirts beneath her, she sat upon the faded couch, while he stoked the fire in the hearth back to life. Shivering as she slowly surveyed the faded walls and shabby curtains that hung the windows in deep velvet shrouds. A grunt and sideways motion of his head indicating the side table that held a crystal decanter and glasses. Rising weakened limbs, her hands shook slightly as she splashed the liquid into the heavy glass. Turning about with the glass half raised to bluish lips, a gasp tore from her throat. The firelight gleaming off the edge of the blade as James slowly advanced. Eyes dark as they raked along her form, trembling with the need she cannot deny. The smooth edge cold upon her skin as he glided it along the outline of her cleavage. She held her breath and sought his gaze while the water dripped a pool upon the faded carpet. A slight smile twisted his lips as he dipped the blade beneath the straps of her gown and gave a sharp upward tug. The gown gaping away from the loosened side and her breast gleaming in the fire glow. James reached a hand forth to tweak the nipple. A slight twist that brought a tinge of pain, followed by a warm infusion throughout her entire body as he gently palmed the full ripeness. Her sex clenched tightly; desperate for his devouring mouth. James laughed lightly and dragged the knife to the other shoulder, dug the tip slightly into the flesh to test her will. Her chin raised and she met the fire burning in his gaze. 

“Shall we get this fuckin wet dress off, hhmm?”

A flick of his wrist and the last remnants of any resistance fell away with the silky threads ghosting down her pliant flesh. Whether sweet or cruel intention, she knew nothing but the willingness to follow where he would lead. The glint of the knife reflected in their ravenous gazes. James trailed the edge lightly along her curves, inhaling her tension in a deep, slow ravaging of lips and tangle of tongues. The other hand moved from where it held her head firm to the delicate hollow of her throat; pressing lightly until he felt the great sigh of release fan upon his roughened skin. With a deep and lustful moan he gathered her naked body against his own, dragging it down before the fire. A ceremony without words unfolding within the gloomy walls and hellish glare. Her gleaming flesh offered upon the altar of his savagery. A bold blade to pierce the tender flesh and banish the false gods of propriety back to their primal nature. 

They would not pray.

All those he gathered were damned anyway.


End file.
